THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


LECTURES 


ON 


ARCHITECTURE. 


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DISCOURSES 


ARCHITECTURE 


TRANSLATED    FROM    THE    FRENCH    OF 


E.   VIOLLET-LE-DUC 


BENJAMIN     BUCKNALL 

ARCHITECT 


ILLUSTRATED    BY     THIRTY-SErEiX    STEEL     EiXORAl'EXGS 
AND     IirO    HUNDRED     WOODCUTS 


VOL.    II 


BOSTON 
TICKNOR     AND     COMPANY 

2U    ff^rrmont    Street 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS. 

PAOE 

Lecture  XI.   The  Construction  of  Buildings — Masonrj-,  .  1 

XII.  The  Construction  of  Buildings — Masonry  ran- 
finiied, — Methods  of  Execution — Simultaneous 
employment  of  Stone,  Brick  and  Iron — Economy 
in  the  Outlay,  .  .  .  51 

XIII.  The  Construction  of  Buildings — Organisation  of 
Building  Yards — Present  Condition  of  the  Art 
of  Building — Use  of  Modern  Appliances,  101 

XIV.  On  the  Teaching  of  Architecture,  .  .  1-10 

XV.  General  Observations  on  the  External  and  In- 
ternal Ornamentation  of  Buildings,       .  .  170 

XVI.  On  Monumental  Sculpture,  .  .  .  209 

XVII.  Domestic  Architecture,  .  .  .  .  246 

XVIII.  Domestic  Architectui'e — continv'l.  .  .  29" 

XIX.  Domestic  Architecture — Country  Hou.se.'',  .  34.t 

XX.  The  State  of  Architecture  in  Europe — The  Posi- 
tion of  Architects  in  France — Competitive 
Arrangements  —  Contracts — Book-keeping  in 
Connection  with  Building-yards  and  their 
Superintendence,         .  .  .  .  381 

Conclusion,    .  .  .  .  .  .  .  4.31 

Index,  .  .  .  .  ,  .  .  439 


503755 


LIST   OF    PLATES. 


I'AliK 


Plate  XIX.  Bays  of  Vaulted  Hall  witholt  Buttresses  (Iron 

and  JIasoury),         .  .  .  .  .  :VJ 

XX.  Perspective   Section    of   a    Blildino    contai.mno 

large  Rooms  (Masonry),    .  .  .  .40 

XXI.  View  of  a  Market-Hall  with  Eoom  .u50ve  (Iron 

and  Masom-y),         .  .  .  .  .65 

XXII.  Plan  of  a  Town-Hall  (Iruu  and  Masonry j,    .  .  7 'J 

XXIII.  Section  and  Elevation  of  a  Town-Hall  (Iron  and 

Masonry),  .  .  .  .  .  .118 

XXIV.  Perspective  View  of  Front  of  a  Town-Hall  (Iron 

and  Masonry),         .  .  .  .  .120 

XXV.  Hall  vaulted  in  Iron  (Drawn  to  Scale),        .  .132 

XXVI.  Perspective  View  of  Hall  vaulted  in  Iron,  .       134 

XXVII.  View   of   south-east   portion   of  the   Palace   of 

Khorsabad,  .  .  .  .  .ISO 

XXVIII.  Syrlan  House  (Grseco-Byzantine),        .  .  .185 

XXIX.  The  Doge's  Pal.a.ce,  Venice,  .  .  .       199 


viii  LIST  OF  PLATES. 

PAGE 

Plate  XXX.  Pohtal   of  thk  Chukch   of   Saint   Pierre    sous 

ViZELAY,  .  .  .  .  .  .233 

XXXI.  Gateway  of  the  Chateau  of  Ferte-Milon,  .       235 

XXXII.  Section  in  Pkkspeotive  of  a  Venetian  Palace,       .       257 

XXXIII.  Perspective  View  of  a  Mansion  suited  to  Modern 
Kequirements,      .... 


•285 


XXXIV.  Small  French  Town-House  ;  frontini;  the  Public 

Road,        .  .  .  .  .  .308 

XXXV.  Small  French  TuwN-HoLsK;  Garden  Front,  .       306 

XXXVI.  Front  of  French  Town-House  (Iron  and  Enamelled 

Terra-Cotta),  .  .  .  .  .329 


LECTURE  XL 

THE   CONSTEUCTION    OF   BUILDINGS. 


Masonry. 


IN  the  times  of  Classical  Antiquity,  as  also  during  the 
Middle  Ages,  there  was  perhaps  no  product  of  human  intel- 
ligence which  more  clearly  indicated  the  social  condition  and 
aptitudes  of  a  people  than  their  method  of  building.  Nothing 
but  the  confusion  of  ideas  existing  in  modern  times,  and  a  long 
succession  of  false  teaching,  could  have  brought  about  the  chaotic 
state  of  things  and  the  inconsistencies  presented  by  our  buildings 
of  the  present  day.  It  is  none  the  less  certain  that  fi'om  this  tran- 
sitional phase  there  will  be  evolved  architectural  methods  proper 
to  our  age  and  social  condition.  It  should  be  the  endeavour  of 
all  earnest  and  impartial  persons  to  put  an  end  to  this  chaos. 

If  we  will  consent  to  regard  the  works  of  the  past  as  belong- 
ing to  the  past, — as  steps  by  which  we  must  pass  if  we  would 
attain  to  the  knowledge  of  what  is  appropi'iate  to  our  own  social 
condition ;  if  we  proceed  by  way  of  analysis,  and  not  by  that 
of  um'eflecting  imitation  ;  if  amid  the  accumulated  remains  of 
former  ages  we  search  for  methods  that  are  apphcable,  and  if  we 
know  how  to  determine  in  what  respects  they  are  applicable  ;  in 
short,  if,  abandoning  effete  doctrinal  traditions,  we  rely  on  our 
own  observation,  we  shall  have  opened  the  way  and  shall  our- 
selves be  able  to  pvu'sue  it. 

Subjected  to  Roman  domination,  and  having  almost  become 
Romans, — at  least  as  regards  a  considerable  part  of  the  territory 
that  now  constitutes  France,— we  adopted  the  Roman  methods  of 
building.  Restored  to  independence,  and  invaded  by  populations 
whose  genius  was  of  an  order  quite  different  from  that  of  the 
Romans,  we  wavered  for  several  centuries  indeterminately 
between  very  diverse  modes  of  building.  At  the  end  of  the 
eleventh  century  and  the  beginning  of  the  twelfth,  we  went  to  the 
East  for  models,  and  succeeded  in  producing  a  kind  of  Romano- 
Greek  Renaissance,  which  was  not  devoid  of  merit,  but  which, 

VOL.  II.  A 


2  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

like  all  other  art  revivals,  could  not  nin  a  long  career.  At  the 
close  of  the  twelfth  century  we  observe  a  very  energetic  artistic 
movement,  originathig  with  ourselves,  and  which  very  soon 
developed  a  fruitful  germ.  That  age  was  wanting  in  all  that 
we  now  possess ;  it  had  not  our  wealth  of  means,  our  variety  of 
materials,  oiu-  iron  and  manufactures.  Tliis  remarkable  move- 
ment, based  on  a  true  perception  of  the  requu-ements  of  modern 
society,  took  a  wrong  dii-ection.  Occurring  six  centuries  too 
soon,  it  exhausted  itself  in  futile  operations  with  a  stubborn  or 
inadequate  material ;  so  that,  in  consequence  of  our  mobile  dis- 
position, we  came  to  regard  it  as  a  mistake,  and  sought  an  art 
at  second-hand, — a  mixture  of  various  traditions, — to  produce 
from  it  what  we  call  the  Renaissance  Architecture.  Form  was 
then  the  leading  consideration  ;  principles  were  no  longer  re- 
garded, and  structural  system  there  was  none.  Then  supervened 
that  colourless  period  which  began  in  the  seventeenth  century 
and  ended  in  chaos. 

This  is,  in  brief,  the  history  of  Architecture  among  us, 
considered  solely  from  the  structural  point  of  view,- — that  is  to 
say,  in  reference  to  the  judicious  employment  of  material.  And 
that  is  not  Architecture  which  does  not  regard  the  material  in 
prescribing  a  mode  of  building  and  the  form  which  results  from 
it ;  and  we  could  not  cite  a  smgle  classic  Greek  or  Roman 
edifice  that  is  not  erected  in  accordance  with  this  principle. 

What  then  are  the  materials  which  the  architect  has  had  at 
his  disposal  at  all  times,  and  which  he  has  now  at  command  ? 
Earth  massed  and  moulded,  pise,  unbm-ned,  and,  subsequently, 
burned  brick  ;  then  in  lieu  of  prunitive  forms  of  pise,  concretes  or 
agglomerations  of  gravel,  made  with  the  help  of  mortar ;  stone, 
— granite,  marble,  basalt,  limestone,  etc.  ;  wood  and  metals. 
Nothing  appears  at  fii-st  easier  than  to  make  use  of  these 
materials  ;  but  when  we  have  to  build  something  other  than  a 
mud  cabin  or  a  hut  of  branches, — when  we  have  to  emjiloy  these 
materials  simultaneously,  to  give  each  its  appropriate  form  and 
place,  and  so  as  not  to  make  a  too  lavish  or  too  niggardly  use  ot 
them,  to  have  a  thorough  acquaintance  vsdth  their  nature  and 
duration,  and  to  secure  for  them  those  conditions  which  will  be 
most  favourable  to  their  preservation, — difficulties  present  them- 
selves on  every  side. 

In  fact,  a  material  that  is  good  in  one  set  of  conditions  is 
bad  in  another ;  this  kind  of  material  will  destroy  that ;  one 
kind  is  unfitted  for  such  or  such  a  function.  Wood  enclosed, — 
excluded  from  the  au', — decays ;  iron  let  mto  stone-work 
oxidises,  decomposes,  and  bm'sts  the  stone ;  certain  limes  pro- 
duce salts  in  quantity  which  destroy  the  stone  they  are  intended 
to  unite.     Experience  gradually  makes  the  builders  acquainted 


LECTURE  XL  3 

witli  innumerable  phenomena  which  occur  in  every  structure  ; 
and  it  is  evident  that  the  more  compUcated  the  structure  is, — 
that  is,  the  more  varied  are  its  component  materials, — the  more 
nrmaerous  these  phenomena  become.  While  the  Egyptians, 
in  erecting  a  temple  with  blocks  of  hmestone,  placed  in  juxta- 
position, had  but  few  observations  to  make  on  the  eftects  dis- 
played in  their  structure,  the  ai'chitect  who  builds  a  house  in 
Paris,  in  which  stone,  brick,  mortar,  wood,  wrought  and  cast 
iron,  lead,  zinc,  slate,  and  plaster  are  simultaneously  employed, 
must  necessarily  accumulate  a  considerable  number  of  practical 
observations.  It  is  singular  that  there  should  be  a  deshe  to 
imitate  with  this  considerable  variety  of  materials  edifices  that 
were  built  with  one  only.  This  shows  a  want  of  rational  reflec- 
tion on  which  I  need  not  dwell.  And  what  is  perhaps  still  more 
strange  is  the  attempt  to  imitate  with  mferior  materials  constnic- 
tions  resulting  from  the  use  of  massive  materials :  for  example,  to 
erect  columns  built  up  with  thin  coiu'ses  and  to  surmount  them 
with  jointed  lintels,  so  as  to  simulate  monoliths  ;  or,  reversing  the 
operation,  to  construct,  with  solid  blocks  of  stone,  buildings  whose 
appeai-ance  would  indicate  masses  of  rubble-work  covered  with 
stone  facings. 

We  shall  devote  this  lecture  to  the  examination  of  questions 
of  construction  relating  solely  to  worked  stone  and  walling. 
There  are  only  three  general  principles  that  are  applicable  to 
structures  of  jointed  stone  and  walling :  1st,  The  principle  of 
simple  stabUity  in  the  superposition  of  materials  residting  in 
vertical  pressures  ;  2d,  The  principle  of  agglomeration  producing 
concrete  masses  and  origuiating  with  hypogtea  (imdergi-ound 
structures)  ;  Zd,  The  principle  of  equilibrium  obtamed  by  forces 
acting  in  contrary  directions.  The  Egjqstians  and  the  Greeks 
employed  scarcely  any  other  struct  m'e  than  that  of  jointed  stone- 
work in  accordance  with  the  fii'st  principle  ;  the  Romans  adopted 
the  second,  and  the  Western  nations,  from  the  twelfth  to  the 
sixteenth  centuiy,  the  tliu-d.  If,  as  occasionally  happens,  two  of 
these  principles  were  simultaneously  applied,  the  union  is  always 
apparent ;  and  a  bastard  product  is  the  result,  which,  considered 
from  the  point  of  view  of  art,  never  has  the  'frank  expression 
which  we  like  to  find  in  every  architectural  work. 

In  fact,  all  architecture  proceeds  from  structure,  and  the  fii-st 
condition  at  which  it  shoidd  aim  is  to  make  the  outward  form 
accord  with  that  stracture.  If  therefore  it  is  faithful  to  the 
principles  just  laid  down,  and  at  the  same  time  adopts  two  of 
them,  it  will  betray  its  diversity  of  origm  and  transgress  the 
first  law,  which  is  unity.  If,  while  adopting  two,  or  even  three, 
principles  of  structure,  it  seeks  unity  of  foi'm,  it  will  be  untrue 
to  two  of  those  prmciples  at  least,  if  not  to  all  three.     It  must 


4  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

be  acknowledged  that  it  is  the  art  of  contravening  these  principles 
which  has  for  a  long  while  been  taught  us,  when  we  have  been 
taught  anything. 

The  Asiatic  nations  employed  simultaneovisly  the  system  of 
concrete  masomy  and  that  of  stability  obtained  by  superposition. 
Against  masses  of  mibiu-nt  or  burnt  bricks,  or  even  earth, 
they  put  facings  of  stone,  as  if  to  enclose  these  slightly  consistent 
cores  in  cases.  In  India  (for  example),  in  Chma,  and  in  the 
kingdom  of  Siam,  they  adopted  rubble  or  brick  masonry,  united 
by  mortar  and  covered  with  stuccos.  We  find  the  same  prin- 
ciple of  structiu'e  in  Mexico  ;  and  the  Pyramids  of  Egypt  them- 
selves are  piles  of  enormous  stones  united  by  mortar,  against 
which  were  placed  regular  courses,  which  again  were  originally 
coated  with  painted  stucco  covering  their  projecting  angles. 
It  would  therefore  appear  that  in  times  the  most  remote  the 
art  of  masonry  employed  mortar  as  a  necessary  agent.  But  how 
was  it  that,  from  a  veiy  high  antiquity,  the  East,  whence  all  the 
arts  are  derived,  proceeded  in  masonry  by  the  method  of 
agglomeration,  in  preference  to  the  principle  which  appears  the 
simplest  and  most  natural — that  of  superposition  ? 

The  great  Aryan  white  race,  which  in  the  earliest  tunes 
spread  from  the  northern  plateaux  of  India  over  the  lower  and 
warmer  lands,  does  not  appear  to  have  adopted  any  kind  of 
structure  other  than  timber-framing ;  since  wherever  we  find 
traces  of  that  race,  the  wooden  structure  prevails.  Having 
invaded  Turanian  races  which  occupied  the  Indian  continent, 
and  which  appear  to  have  been  settled  from  the  remotest  times 
in  the  extreme  East  and  beyond  the  Caspian  Sea  westward, 
those  white  races  were  soon  led  to  adopt  the  modes  of  buUding 
employed  by  the  conquered  races  :  and  it  must  be  observed  that 
the  yellow  races  have  a  special  aptitude  for  earth-work,  and 
consequently  for  masonry-work  proceeding  by  agglomeration. 
Facts  obhge  us  to  conclude  that  the  different  races  which  con- 
stitute mankind  are  endowed  with  diverse  aptitudes.  Some, 
whose  home  is  found  on  elevated  plateaux  covered  wath  forests, 
take  timber  as  the  material  suitable  for  erectmg  their  houses 
and  temples.  Others,  settled  amid  immense  marshy  plains, 
build  with  mud  and  reeds.  Others  again,  such  as  the  black  races 
who  occupied  Upper  Egypt,  and  who  are  now  thrust  back  into 
Sennar,  excavated  their  dwellings  on  the  slopes  of  calcareous 
hills.  From  the  first  invasions  of  white  among  yellow  races, 
there  must  frequently  have  resulted  in  the  buildings  erected  a 
strange  mixture  of  traditions  imported  by  the  conquerors  with 
the  customs  that  had  taken  root  among  the  conquered.  This 
explains  the  singular  character  of  the  most  ancient  Indian 
buildings,    where    we    see    forms    derived    from    timber-work 


LECTURE  XL  5 

rendered  by  means  of  rubble  masonry  coated  with  stucco,  or 
even  hewn  in  the  tufa  or  the  rock.  This  explains  why  in  Egypt 
buildings  constiaicted  of  lai-ge  supei-posed  stones  reproduce  a 
structiu'e  whose  origin  is  certainly  due  to  buildings  of  mud  and 
reeds.  Without  further  enlarging  on  these  origins,  we  will  only 
remark  that  in  the  ancient  East  there  does  not  exist  a  principle 
of  masonry  building,  but  rather  a  mingling  of  very  various 
methods.  To  us  of  the  West,  who  make  a  point  of  investigat- 
ing the  rationale  of  everything,  these  buildings  appear  to  have 
no  appKcable  principle,  methodically  piu-sued  and  fruitful  in 
deductions.  The  Greeks  were  the  first  to  reduce  this  chaos  to 
order.  Disregarding  the  methods  of  buildmg  employed  by  the 
Assyrians  or  by  the  Medes, — abandoning  the  imitation  of  timber- 
work  in  stone  practised  by  certain  nations  of  Asia  JMinor,  they 
fi'ankly  and  without  any  compromise  adopted  the  first  of  the 
principles  we  expressed  above, — that  of  simple  stability  obtained 
by  the  superposition  of  shaped  materials.  To  bring  to  hght  a 
very  simple  principle  amid  a  confusion  of  principles,  and  to  have 
the  courage  to  apply  it  uncompromisingly,  is  a  proof  of  very 
special  genius,  such  as  is  but  rarely  met  with  in  the  history  of 
man.  In  accomplisliing  tliis  the  Greeks  showed  with  what 
exceptional  aptitudes  they  were  endowed ;  they  rendered  an 
immense  sei'vice  to  the  West,  teaching  it  to  employ  reasoning 
in  matters  of  art.  In  a  word.  Architecture  became  an  ai't  in 
their  hands,  whereas  throughout  the  whole  East  it  was  only  a 
craft  more  or  less  skilfully  practised.  Sustamed  by  this  example, 
we  shall  not  cease  to  repeat  that  there  is  no  art  without  the 
intervention  of  reasoning.  The  Greeks  were  the  first  to  estabhsh 
and  apply  this  law  ;  if  we  lose  sight  of  it  we  take  a  step  down- 
wards, and  from  being  artists  as  the  Greeks  made  us  we  faU 
back  into  the  condition  of  slaves  working  for  capricious  masters. 
We  can  well  imderstand  how  and  why  the  Greeks  could  not 
adopt  the  principle  of  masomy  erected  with  the  aid  of  mortal', — 
of  adhesive  matter.  For  the  execution  of  pise  or  even  of  rubble- 
work  only  labourers  ai'e  needed.  The  Greeks  had  conceived  too 
lofty  an  idea  of  architecture  to  be  ■walling  to  develoj)  its  glories 
by  the  aid  of  such  rude  means ;  and  we  see  that  much  later  on, 
— in  the  Greco-Roman  districts  of  Syria,  near  Antioch  and 
Aleppo, — the  humblest  buildings  are  erected  with  that  hewn 
stone-work  which  excludes  rubble  masonry  and  the  employment 
of  gangs  of  labourers  eveiywhere  organised  by  the  Eomans. 
Moreover,  while  it  is  possible  to  produce  a  false  appearance  by 
means  of  constructions  following  the  system  of  agglomeration,  it 
is  difficult  to  do  so  when  we  only  employ  the  method  of  hewn 
stone-work  without  mortal".  The  laws  of  statics  do  not  j^ermit  it. 
In  this  latter  case  every  stone  must  have  a  determinate  function. 


6  LECTURES  ON  ARGHITECTURE. 

When  the  Greeks  had  to  erect  a  cella  behind  a  portico,  for 
example,  they  formed  a  kind  of  frame- work  of  stone  which  they 
filled  in  with  blocks,  cut  parallel  only  on  the  two  exposed  faces 
fitted  by  means  of  a  bevel  so  as  to  avoid  as  much  as  possible  the 
laljour  of  squaring  the  stones.  Certain  limestones  and  marbles 
fracture  in  rhombohedrons  rather  than  in  parallelojjipeds ;  by 


Fia.  1.— Early  Greek  Masonry. 


this  means  they  were  enabled  to  utilise  much  material  which 
they  must  have  rejected  if  they  had  wished  to  make  waUing  of 
level  courses. 

Figm-e  1  will  explain  what  we  are  describing.  The  plan  of 
the  cella  having  been  marked  out,  and  tlie  foundations  laid, 
the  corner  antse  A  were  set  up ;  then  the  door  jambs  B,  care 


LECTURE  XL  7 

being  taken  to  slightly  incline  the  latter  towards  each  other,  so 
as  thereby  to  diminish  the  bearing  of  the  lintel,  and  to  give  the 
weights  a  direction  tending  to  the  middle  of  the  wall     The 
intervening  spaces  c  were  then   filled  in  by  means  of  blocks 
selected  so  as  to  obviate  the  trouble  of  squai'ing  them.     In  fact 
this  method  of  stone- work,  called  Cyclopean,  seldom  presents  more 
than  one  ansfle  to  be  fitted  :  takingf  this  angie  with  a  bevel,  a 
stone  was  sought  for,  which  ofiered  a  projecting  angle  con-e- 
sponding  with   the  interior  angle   measured  with  the  bevel,  as 
shown  in  the  detail  D.      This  nregular  masonry  was  maintained 
by  the  antse  and  by  the  jambs  of  the  door ;  especially  as  the 
jointed  stones  of  these  antte  and  jambs  frequently  had  tenons  which 
fitted  into  mortices  sunk  in  the  incumbent  blocks  as  shown  in 
detail  E.     This  construction,  as  compared  with  that  of  the  build- 
ings of  Nineveh,  e.g.,  shows  an  advance,  or  rather  the  intei"ven- 
tion  of  a  course  of  reasoning  which  is  absent  in  the  Assyrian 
buildings  :  for  the  latter  present  only  masses  of  unburnt  brick- 
work cased  with  slabs  of  alabaster  or  hmestone,  as  a  sort  of 
decorative  wainscoting.     In   primitive  Greek   architecture   the 
masonry  assumes  a  function  ;  it  lives,  so  to  speak,  and  ceases  to 
be  an  inert  mass.     But  in  their  buildings  of  early  date,  the 
Greeks  plainly  showed  whence  they  derived  the  method  of  con- 
struction ;    they  erected   in   stone,  by  a  process   of  reasoning, 
buildings  such  as  were  origuiaUy  made  of  timber ;  theii-  merit  how- 
ever was  the  not  ha\Tng  imitated  in  calcareous  materials  forms 
borrowed  from  timber-work,  as  did  the  Lycians  and  most  of  the 
peoples  who  inhabited  the  coasts  of  Asia  Minor.     When  the 
methods   of  quai-rying  were   improved,  the  Greeks    ceased   to 
employ  what  is  called  the  Cyclopean  order  of  construction  in 
theii'  masonry ;  they  built  in  courses,  but  their  genius  never  led 
them  to  become  wallers.     They  were  stone-fitters,  that  is  to  say, 
jointers  and  superposers  of   stone.     The   idea   of  the    concre- 
tion,— the   agglomeration  of  materials, — was  evidently  repug- 
nant to  them ;  since  we  see  that  very  late,  even  in  the  foui-th 
and    fifth   centmies    of    our    era,    they    could    not    make    up 
their  minds  to  adopt  that   mode   of  building,    and  that  even 
at  this   late   date  they  appeared   to   prefer   the  lintel   to   the 
jointed  arch. 

It  must,  moreover,  be  fully  admitted  that  there  is  in  jointed 
masonry  of  the  simplest  and  most  natural  kind  a  powei'fiil 
charm  to  wliich  the  Western  races  are  sensible  as  if  by  instinct. 
To  employ  large  materials  appropriately,  to  shape  them  according 
to  their  function,  laying  them  so  as  to  render  the  structure 
stable  in  appearance,  must  be  reckoned  as  constituting,  smce 
the  Greek  period,  an  essential  pai-t  of  the  art  of  building ;  and, 
in    this   respect    the   architects    of  the   twelfth  century,  e.g.. 


8  LECTURES  ON  AHCHITECTURE. 

were   nearer   to   true   art   than  we  now   are.     We  shall  soon 
see  why. 

It  is  not  necessary  here  to  offer  to  our  readers  that  which 
they  can  find  everywhere, — the  structure  of  a  Greek  temple, 
for  instance.  Besides,  nothing  is  more  simple  :  blocks  as  large 
as  could  be  procured  for  the  columns ;  architraves  in  one  piece, 
or  composed  of  two  blocks  placed  side  by  side,  bearing  from  one 
column  to  another,  and  for  the  walls,  materials  of  inferior  dimen- 
sions ;  square  stones  forming  the  two  faces— outer  and  inner. 
Upon  the  architraves,  lintels  in  one  piece  across  the  width  of  the 
portico ;  upon  these  lintels,  slabs,  or  in  some  cases,  where  stones 
of  sufficient  length  and  strength  were  wanting,  wood.  A  frieze 
composed  of  a  series  of  uprights,  with  slabs  between,  and  on  the 
uprights,  the  cornice.  A  sparing  use  of  large  blocks  where  they 
were  not  necessary,  and  beds  and  jomts  invariably  coinciding 
with  the  members  of  the  architecture.  If  this  displays  no  great 
skill,  at  any  rate  reason  and  the  eye  are  satisfied  by  a  structure 
in  perfect  harmony  with  the  form. 

This  method  does  not  admit  of  any  tie  resulting  from  agglu- 
tination ;  sometimes  we  find  a  few  cramps  or  dovetails  of  bronze, 
or  even  of  wood :  stability  is  secm'ed  by  superposition,  and 
weight  acting  vertically  on  vertical  supports. 

The  Romans,  who  took  whatever  came  to  hand,  and  recog- 
nised every  j^ractical  princijile,  did  not  disdain  the  Greek  system ; 
but  they  employed  it  simultaneously  with  a  process  of  buildmg 
which  was  absolutely  contrary  to  it.  They  employed  the  con- 
crete system — that  of  agglomeration  obtained  by  mortars.  Form- 
ing thick  masses  composed  of  pebbles,  rough  stones,  brick  or 
rubble-work  united  by  hme  and  sand,  they  sometimes  cased 
these  cores  with  facmgs  of  jointed  stones,  close  fitting,  without 
mortar,  according  to  the  system  in  use  among  the  Greeks  :  or,  on 
the  other  hand,  against  concrete  walls  or  masses  they  set  up 
columns  with  their  entablatures,  according  to  the  Greek  prin- 
ciple ;  but  the  Romans  never  laid  jointed  stones  in  mortar :  in 
making  use  of  the  two  very  different  systems,  they  woidd  seem 
to  have  respected  them  both,  and  not  to  have  allowed  them  to 
be  confounded.  This  fact  is  remarkable,  and  tends  to  give  their 
masonry  an  altogether  special  aspect.  So  little  did  they  con- 
found these  two  principles,  that  we  even  observe  them  following 
the  purest  Greek  method  in  their  stone-jointed  structure ;  for 
example,  not  continuing  the  beds  of  wall-courses  into  jambs  : 
forming  these  of  monolithic  blocks  ;  making  antse  and  columns 
of  single  stones ;  not  bonding  the  stones  of  a  very  thick  arch, 
but  forming  it  of  several  concentric  arches;^  and  extradossing 
their  arch-stones.     In  a  word,  the  jointed  stone  structure  of  the 

'  At  the  Pont  du  Card  and  the  Amphitheatre  of  Aries,  for  instance. 


LECTURE  XL  9 

Romans  is  frankly  Greek,  confoinning  to  the  Greek  method  ; 
which,  however,  does  not  hinder  them  from  simultaneously 
adopting  an  altogether  different  method, — that  of  the  concrete 
structure.  It  is  in  this  respect  that  we  should  imitate  the 
Romans ;  and  this  is  what  we  fail  to  do,  both  in  our  domestic 
and  public  builcHngs. 

The  Romans,  with  their-  practical  good  sense,  had  clearly 
perceived  that  the  two  systems  of  building  which  they  adopted 
might  aid  each  other,  but  only  on  the  condition  of  not  being 
mingled.  They  had  perceived  that  a  gi-anite  column  is  incapable 
of  sinking  or  depression ;  that  such  a  support  placed  against  a 
mass  of  rubble-work  must  necessarily  give  rigidity  to  the  mass 
on  the  side  against  which  it  was  placed,  for  the  mass,  inevitably 
contracting  through  the  drying  of  the  mortar,  must  sink  a  httle, 
while  the  column  preserved  its  full  height.  In  many  cases  this 
was  an  expedient  useful  to  the  builder.  In  surroimding  the 
Coliseum  w4th  a  casing  of  jointed  stone-work,  the  Roman  builder 
felt  that  this  enormous  interior  mass  of  brick  and  rubble  was 
stayed  at  its  circumference  by  an  absolutely  firm  and  rigid  belt 
incapable  of  settling,  breaking,  or  cracking.  It  was  a  buttress- 
ing. While  the  Greeks  erected  only  small  edifices,  the  Romans 
built  enormous  ones,  and  their  mixed  method  was  perfectly 
adapted  to  their  requii-ements  ;  since,  by  always  placing  on  the 
exterior,  or  under  the  arches,  in  the  interior,  jointed  stone-work 
without  mortar,  they  made  theu'  masonry  stay  itself,  as  every 
rigid  resistance  tended  to  throw  the  pressure  towards  the  centres, 
and  that  which  was  in  harmony  with  good  construction  was  at 
the  same  time  an  adornment. 

What  cannot  be  too  strongly  insisted  on  is  the  economy 
observed  by  the  Romans  m  theu-  buildings.  Thoroughness  in 
the  execution  is  always  evident,  but  never  excess  of  strength. 
Relying,  and  with  reason,  on  the  excellence  of  their  mortar,  they 
gave  their  waUs  and  piers  the  thickness  that  was  necessaiy,  and 
carefully  levelled  the  rubble-work  at  various  heights,  in  order  to 
avoid  unequal  settlement,  and  to  enable  the  mortar  to  harden 
equally.  It  is  an  error  to  suppose  that  the  Romans  erected  walls 
of  great  thickness  when  they  had  only  to  support  inconsiderable 
weights  acting  vertically ;  in  svich  cases,  on  the  contrary,  it  is 
often  surprising  to  observe  how  shght  was  the  thickness  of  the 
walls  compared  with  theii-  height.^  In  their  gi-eat  vaulted  build- 
ings, such  as  the  Pantheon  at  Rome  and  the  haUs  of  the  Thermre, 
the  section  of  the  piers  is  rather  slight  than  strong  relatively  to 
the  weight  they  caiTy.     It  is  true  that  these  jaiers  were  gene- 

1  In  the  Basilicas  with  timber  roofs,  for  instance.  Among.  Gallo-Eoman  buildings,  see 
the  tower  of  Vesone,  the  square  building  at  Autun,  situated  outside  the  town  on  the  other 
side  of  the  river,  and  known  as  the  Temple  of  Janus. 


10 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


rally  stayed  by  monoliths  of  marble  or  granite,  and  that, 
owing  to  the  method  employed  by  the  builders,  they  formed 
but  one  single  perfectly  homogeneous  block.  Moreover,  always 
regai'ding  the  faces  as  a  casing — a  crust, — whether  erected  of 
stone,  brick,  or  rough  range  work, — they  took  the  precaution 
to  bond  tliis  casing  at  intervals,  and  the  interior  filhng  of 
rubble-work,  either  by  through  coiirses  of  brick  or  by  flat- 
bedded  stones. 

Thus  Roman  masonry  always  consisted  of  a  series  of  casings 
enclosing  a  perfectly  solid  and  homogeneous  filling.  When  they 
erected  a  pier  (fig.  2)  the  builders  formed  faces,  either  of  brick  or 
of  chopped  stones  (the  courses  A  being  levelling  courses  covering 
the  entire  surface).      Between  these  faces  and  these  levelling 


Fio.  2. — Roman  Masonry. 


courses  they  filled  in  with  coarse  concrete,  leaving  above  each 
levelling  course  at  intervals  putlog-holes  b  to  accommodate  the 
scaffolding.  If  they  wished  to  case  these  faces  of  chopped  stone 
or  brick  with  stone  or  marble  slabs,  they  built  string-courses  c 
into  the  masonry,  and  the  slabs  were  grooved  into  the  hori- 
zontal projections  of  these  string-courses. 

We  have  here  true  mason-work  perfectly  adapted  to  the 
buildings  they  erected,  and  easy  of  execution.  It  must  not  be 
forgotten  that  their  mortar  was  excellent. 

Can  these  methods,  on  which  it  appears  useless  to  dwell, 
since  they  are  known  to  everybody,  be  applied  in  our  days  ? 
Can  we  make  any  use  of  them  ?  I  thmk  so  :  not  however  by 
imitating  them  without    criticism,   but   by  proceeding  as  the 


LECTURE  XL  11 

Romans  would  have  done  had  they  possessed  our  materials  and 
means  of  execution. 

Employing  simultaneously  the  piinciple  of  rubble  building 
and  that  of  jointed  stone-work,  the  Romans,  without  ever  con- 
founding these  two  systems — as  I  remarked  above, — employed 
them  m  conformity  with  tlieii-  properties,  always  placing  the  less 
resisting  structure  inside  and  the  more  rigid  outside.  Moreover, 
in  good  Roman  work  the  stone  or  marble  envelope  takes  the 
form  of  a  superposition  of  architectural  members,  not  as  a  mere 
casing  where  the  forms  do  not  coincide  with  the  jointing.  It 
was  only  at  a  very  late  period  that  the  Romans  ceased  to  j^re- 
serve  this  perfect  correspondence  between  the  form  and  the 
jointing ;  and  we  see  that  in  countries  where  Greek  art  main- 
tained its  influence — in  Syria,  for  instance, — the  jointing  and 
the  form  continued  to  correspond.  We  may  observe  the  same 
fact  in  the  West,  during  a  considerable  part  of  our  mediaeval 
period.  But  we  must  not  forget  that  the  constitictive  art  cannot 
and  should  not  estabhsh  as  laws  methods  which  arfe  not  in  har- 
mony with  the  usages  of  the  times ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  the 
usages  of  the  times  that  should  originate  the  system  of  con- 
struction suitable  to  them. 

The  Greeks  were  divided  mto  small  communities  who  could 
Lndulofe  in  those  refinements  of  execution  which  we  admbe  in 
theii'  works.  The  Romans  had  the  whole  known  world  at  their 
command ;  they  had  slaves  in  prodigious  numbers,  they  made 
their  soldiers  work,  and  did  not  scruple  to  resort  to  i-equisitions. 
The  IVIiddle  Ages  employed  forced  labour,  and  m  cei-tain  cases, 
labour  paid  for  at  a  low  price  ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  they  had 
but  inefficient  means  for  procuring  and  transporting  materials,  and 
indifferent  machinery.  Such  is  not  the  state  of  things  in  our 
days.  Materials  are  easily  procurable  from  every  quarter,  exactly 
where  we  want  them,  while  labour  is  expensive  and  time  valuable. 
It  would  be  reasonable  therefore  to  try  to  build  in  accordance 
with  these  novel  conditions,  rather  than  to  think  of  imitating 
the  Greeks,  the  Romans,  the  builders  of  the  Middle  Ages,  or  the 
imitators  who  lived  in  the  time  of  Louis  xiv.  In  French  archi- 
tecture down  to  the  Renaissance  there  was  a  perfectly  logical 
advance, — as  logical  as  had  been  that  of  the  Greeks  or  that  of 
the  Romans.  In  the  twelfth  century, — -that  period  so  brilliant  for 
the  arts,  for  architecture,  sculpture,  and  painting, — France  was 
divided  politically  into  numberless  lordships  ;  roads  were  few, 
and  the  means  of  transport  were  mconsiderable  ;  it  was  difficidt 
to  go  to  a  distance  to  procure  and  load  heavy  materials  ;  pay- 
ments were  made  in  kind,  and  forced  labour  was  the  custom. 
Masonry  was  constructed  with  smaU  materials,  easily  transported 
and  lifted, — capable,  for  the  most  part,  of  being  carried  on  the 


12  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

shoulders, — and  with  these  resources  great  buildings  were 
erected.  But  the  architecture  was  adapted  to  a  structure  of 
small  stones  rather  than  to  one  of  jointed  blocks.  It  was  a  com- 
promise between  the  Roman  rubble-work  structure  and  the 
structure  of  jointed  stone.  Great  projections  necessitating  the 
use  of  large  stones  were  avoided.  In  a  word,  the  architecture 
readily  subjected  itself  to  the  means  at  command.  A  little  later 
on,  towards  the  end  of  the  twelfth  century,  political  unity  was 
realised,  the  great  to^vns  obtained  their  franchises,  and  building 
appliances  became  abimdant.  Materials  of  large  dimensions  were 
procured,  transported,  worked,  and  raised.  It  was  no  longer  abbots 
or  secular  nobles,  confined  withm  their  narrow  domains,  and 
having  at  their  disposal  an  inconsiderable  staff  of  workmen,  who 
were  the  builders,  but  populous  and  wealthy  cities.  Machines 
were  improved,  guilds  were  formed,  and  the  workmen  were  paid 
good  wages  in  money.  Workmanship  was  improved,  but  there 
was  an  endeavour  to  economise  it ;  materials  were  plentiful  and 
well  selected  ;  but  their  cost  was  recognised,  and  they  were  not 
uselessly  lavished ;  every  stone  was  roughly  shaped  in  the  quariy 
and  dressed  before  it  was  laid.  Materials  of  large  dimensions 
were  used  only  where  they  were  necessary.  In  every  other  case 
stones  of  inconsiderable  size  were  constantly  employed.  With 
the  fourteenth  century  arose  the  vast  civic  builduigs,  well  planned 
and  simple,  and  in  which  we  see  manifested  a  spirit  of  method 
sometimes  carried  to  excess.  It  was  the  age  of  regulations ; 
building  reflected  its  spuit ;  it  was  uniform,  consistent,  and 
subject  to  strict  siu'veillance  :  the  building-staff  was  a  govern- 
ment in  which  every  one  had  his  appointed  function.  It  was 
the  age  of  ^^ctitern  stones ;  the  courses  were  regulated  and  had 
consequently  been  ordered  a  long  time  beforehand.  The  architec- 
ture of  the  period  took  its  tone  from  this  gifasz -administrative 
regularity,  and  became  hard  and  monotonous.  But  at  no  time  was 
there  a  more  thorougfh  knowledgfe  of  the  nature  of  materials  and 
their  special  properties.  During  no  period  were  the  quarries 
worked  with  more  order  and  method.  Moreover,  a  strict  economy 
was  observed  in  the  employment  of  the  stone.  The  fifteenth 
century  built  well,  employed  freestone  by  preference,  as  being 
easier  to  work  and  to  quarry  in  large  pieces ;  accordingly,  the 
architectural  features  began  to  be  less  rigorously  in  accord  with 
the  jointing,  but  they  certainly  did  not  contravene  it.  The  Re- 
naissance almost  lost  sight  of  structiu'e,  virtually  disregarding 
it ;  all  modes  were  mdifferent :  there  ceased  to  be  selection  as 
regards  the  quality ;  there  was  no  longer  any  understanding  be- 
tween the  architect  and  the  mason.  The  architect  gave  the 
form ;  the  mason  inteqDreted  it  in  his  setting  out  to  the  best  of 
his  judgment,  or  as  far  as  the  materials  at  his  command  allowed. 


LECTURE  XL  13 

There  were  exceptions,  however.  Philibert  Deloiine,  for  instance, 
paid  great  regard  to  the  structure ;  but  he  also  complained  of 
the  ignorance  of  his  brethren  in  this  matter/ 

At  the  present  day  we  have  retrograded  still  further,  if 
possible,  than  the  architects  of  the  Renaissance ;  while  our 
shortcomings  are  less  excusable  than  theirs,  for  they  at  any 
rate  were  carried  away  by  the  impulse  of  a  fashion  whose  power 
was  too  strong  for  them  to  resist.  We  proceed  ^\'ilfully — we 
ai'e  perfectly  cognisant  of  the  methods  employed  by  the  ancient 
builders, — we  do  not  sin  through  ignorance.  We  bring  uito 
our  buUding-yards,  on  monstrous  waggons,  enormous  stones 
sometimes  cubing  four  or  five  yards.  Do  we  jjroceed  to  take 
advantage  of  these  splendid  materials ;  will  our  architecture  be 
in  accordance  with  their  strength  ?  No  :  we  set  to  work  to  cut 
in  tliem  meagre  pilasters,  thin  architraves,  narrow  string-courses, 
so  that  in  the  building  the  stone  will  appear  to  consist  of  four  or 
five  pieces.  We  go  so  far  as  to  work  in  it  thin  courses, — yes, 
thin  courses, — with  grooved  joints,  to  imitate  an  architectiu'e 
built  with  materials  of  less  considerable  cube.  We  saw  these 
enormous  blocks  into  pieces  to  form  jointed  lintels  restmg  on 
iron  bars.  We  erect  masses  of  stone-work,  jointed  without  any 
regard  to  the  form  the  building  will  assume ;  and  when  the 
whole  is  thus  pded  up,  a  host  of  stone-cutters  will  come  and 
di'ess  do%vn  the  rough  rock  to  the  shape  which  it  shall  have 
pleased  the  architect  to  adopt.  Beds  and  joints  will  cross  the 
sculpture  or  the  mouldings — no  matter :  for  some  years  to  come 
plaster-of-Paris  tmted  with  oclii'e  will  mask  these  blunders. 
Thus  it  is  that,  though  aided  by  extensive  knowledge,  and  hav- 
ing at  command  the  numerous  and  powerful  appliances  afforded 
by  modern  civilisation  and  industry,  it  has  come  to  pass  that  we 
are  no  longer  able  to  give  to  our  buildings  the  character,  the 
expression,  which  we  have  always  admu'ed  in  the  works  of  our 
predecessors,  who  were  less  favom-ed  in  every  respect  than  our- 
selves. But  our  predecessors  made  great  use  of  their  reasoning 
faculty,  while  we  dai-e  not  have  recourse  to  it,  for  fear  of  seeing 
our  efforts  regarded  by  a  few  coteries  who  base  their  influence 
on  the  indifierence  of  the  enlightened  public  to  matters  of  tliis 
kind,  as  an  attempt  at  emancipation. 

We  may  therefore  consider  these  two  points  as  settled  : 
that  we  have  at  our  command  materials  and  machinery  formerly 
unknown  ;  that  our  requirements  are  more  vai'ious,  and — whicli 
is  especially  to  be  considered — more  extensive  than  were  those 

1  One  instance  among  a  thousand  will  give  an  idea  how  little  structure  was  considered 
by  the  architects  of  the  Renaissance.  The  columns  of  the  decorative  porticos  of  the  court 
of  the  chateau  d'Eoouen  each  consist  of  two  pieces  of  stone  placed  side  by  side  on  end,  so 
that  each  column  is  formed  of  two  half-columns.  This  would  be  enough  to  make  an 
architect  of  classic  times  or  of  the  Middle  Ages  turn  pale. 


14  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

of  the  Classic  period,  or  even  the  Middle  Ages ;  that  as  our 
materials  are  greater  In  quantity,  and  the  means  of  transporting 
and  working  them  are  more  efficient,  we  should  take  this  abun- 
dance and  these  appliances  into  account ;  and  that  as  our 
requirements  are  diti'erent  or  more  complex,  we  should  conform 
to  these  novel  conditions.  If  we  add  to  these  fundamental  laws 
of  art  those  reasons  for  economy  which  are  more  unperative  now 
than  they  were  in  former  times,  we  shall  be  able  to  advance  on 
sure  ground.  We  do  not  live  in  times  when  a  monarch  could 
compel  whole  populations  to  raise  a  pyramid  such  as  that  of 
Cheops ;  we  are  scarcely  wUling  even  to  allow  of  the  resources 
of  the  State,  that  is,  the  public  revenue,  being  used  to  satisfy 
the  taste  or  caprice  of  a  Sovereign,  unless  some  material  or  moral 
advantage  is  to  be  secured  thereby  for  all ;  and,  proceeding  from 
general  considerations  to  details,  we  are  approaching  a  period  when 
it  will  no  longer  be  permitted  to  adopt  in  public  buildings  forms 
which  are  not  the  exact  expression  of  the  requirements  of  the  case. 

Now  not  only  do  I  believe  that  the  rigorous  observance  of 
these  conditions  is  not  opposed  to  an  artistic  expression,  but  I 
am.  convinced  that  this  alone  can  produce  it. 

In  order  to  be  able  to  apply  these  principles  the  architect 
needs  only  complete  liberty,  and  no  one  can  give  him  this  hberty 
if  he  does  not  know  how  to  acquire  it.  Let  him  study  what  has 
been  done,  and  make  use  of  that  study  by  rationally  applying  it, 
by  always  making  what  has  been  acquii-ed  his  point  of  departure 
for  a  resolute  adoption  of  the  methods  rendered  necessary  by  the 
new  conditions  ;  let  him  regard  or  adopt  any  architectural  form 
of  the  past  merely  as  an  expression  of  a  still  existing,  or  a  no 
longer  existing  necessity,  as  the  case  may  be  ;  let  him  consider 
it  as  an  instructive  study,  not  as  an  imperative,  traditional,  in- 
variable model ;  then,  in  place  of  those  strange  compilations  of 
fonns  capriciously  boiTowed  from  all  quarters,  and  which  con- 
stitute what  is  now  denominated  architecture,  he  will  be  able 
to  originate  an  art, — an  art  of  which  he  will  be  the  master,  and 
which  will  be  the  reflex  of  our  civilisation. 

All  discussion  on  these  points  resolves  itself  into  this  :  Is  it 
the  lettei'  or  the  spint  that  you  should  follow  when  anterior  arts 
are  in  question  ?  If  it  is  the  letter,  let  vis  copy  the  Greeks,  the 
Romans,  the  works  of  the  Renaissance,  or  the  Middle  Ages, 
without  distinction,  for  these  various  forms  of  art  offer  us 
admirable  productions ;  but  if  it  is  the  sjjirit,  the  case  is  com- 
pletely altered  ;  the  question  is  then  no  longer  that  of  adopting 
a  form,  but  of  ascertaining  whether  the  conditions  now  existing 
are  such  that  you  ought  to  adopt  that  form  :  for  if  the  condi- 
tions are  diSerent,  the  form,  which  was  a  rational  one  simply 
because  it  resulted  from  a  rigorous  attention  to  a  special  con- 


LECTURE  XL  15 

dition,  has  no  further  reason  for  its  existence,  and  should  be 
abandoned.  That  we  should  reason  like  Aristotle  is  most  com- 
mendable ;  but  that  we  should  adopt  all  his  ideas  is  quite 
another  thing.  Now  this  distinction,  which  modern  thinkers  so 
wisely  make  between  the  method  of  reasoning  adopted  by  the 
ancients  and  their  ideas,  discoveries,  or  hypotheses  in  the  fields 
of  philosophy  and  science, — why  should  we  not  make  it  in  the 
domain  of  art  ?  or  without  going  so  far  for  a  parallel,  though  we 
read  the  works  of  Descartes,  do  we  think  it  possible  to  regard 
all  his  theories  as  true,  as  infallible  ?  While  we  employ  his 
method,  is  it  not  in  many  cases  with  a  view  to  argue  against 
and  contradict  him  ?  Why  then  m  art  should  we  use  materials 
as  they  might  have  been  used  in  the  seventeenth  century  ?  and 
what  meaning  have  the  arcMtectural  features  or  forms  wliich 
were  adopted  in  those  days  for  us  ?  What  do  they  express  % 
To  what  modem  requirement  or  taste  do  they  correspond  ?  And 
if  it  should  come  to  be  shown  that  these  architectural  features 
did  not  correspond  with  the  social  exigencies  of  the  times, — that 
they  were  only  an  unintelligent  imitation  of  a  previous  art,  what 
should  we  think  of  this  imitation  at  second-hand  in  modern 
times  ?  If  we  purpose  imitation,  we  should  at  least  revert  to 
original  sources. 

Let  us  then  examine  (for  we  must  enter  on  the  consideration 
of  practical  questions)  what  are  the  methods  of  building  which 
our  materials  suggest  to  us,  when  masonry  is  in  question,  and 
what  are  the  forms  dictated  by  these  methods.  Thanks  to  the 
apphances  for  quarrying  which  we  possess  in  the  present  day,  and 
to  our  railways,  we  can  obtain  for  our  buildings  stone  of  very 
various  kinds. ^  The  question  is  how  to  employ  them  according 
to  theu'  particular  nature.  The  stones  most  commonly  employed 
for  building  are  the  limestones  ;  but  there  is  a  considerable 
number  of  materials  that  might  be  used  besides  them, — such 
for  mstance  as  the  granites,  the  schists,  the  sandstones,  and 
lavas. 

Moreover,  the  limestones,  even  the  best  and  hardest,  are 
nearly  all  decomposed  by  saltpetre  ;  or  at  any  rate  absorb  the 
moistmre  of  the  ground  or  the  air  to  such  a  degree  as  to  destroy 
the  wood-work  or  the  painting  applied  m  the  mteriors.  It  would 
therefore,  in  many  cases,  be  advantageous  to  employ  a  method 
greatly  in  vogue  among  the  Romans — a  method  of  which  we 
have  previously  spoken,  and  which  consists  of  rubble  and  brick- 
work, or  rubble-work  only,  cased  with  large  stones.     It  is,  m 

1  In  no  country  in  Europe  are  materials  suitable  for  building  more  abundant  than  in 
France.  The  Jurassic  limestones  are  met  with  over  a  great  part  of  the  land.  We  may 
add  to  these  rocks,  which  are  generally  a  good  building  material,  the  alluvial  limestones 
the  chalks,  the  granites,  the  lavas,  the  marbles,  schists,  and  sandstones. 


IG  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

fact,  scarcely  comprehensible  why, — in  the  construction  of  great 
buildings,  for  instance, — walls  or  piers  of  a  yard  and  a  half  to 
two  yards  in  thickness  should  be  built  of  solid  blocks  of  stone, 
when  the  weights  are  not  such  as  to  justify  this  lavish  use  of 
materials.  The  method  of  casmg  would  have  the  advantage  of 
permitting  the  use  of  materials  relatively  expensive,  of  various 
colours  and  veiy  durable,  such  as  certain  compact  limestones, 
marbles,  lavas,  or  schists. 

If  instead  of  placing  columns  or  pilasters  on  the  outside  of 
buildings  as  a  mere  ornament,  we  justified  that  decoration  by 
makuig  it  contribute  to  the  strength  of  the  building,  reason  and 
taste  woidd  not  be  oflPended  by  it,  and  the  outlay  would  at  least 
produce  a  positive  result.  Since  we  very  seldom  leave  the  stone 
apparent  in  the  interiors  of  our  public  or  private  buildings, 
since — with  the  exception  now  and  then  of  a  vestibule  or  stair- 
case— we  think  it  necessary  to  hne  it  with  plastering,  wains- 
coting, or  painting, — why  make  the  faces  of  these  interiors  of 
block  stone  when  we  give  these  walls  so  considerable  a  thickness, 
that  the  blocks  do  not  form  parpings  or  through  stones  ?  I  freely 
admit  that  necessity  may  oblige  us  to  form  the  fronts  of  houses 
whose  walls  do  not  exceed  half  a  yard  in  thickness,  of  solid 
stone ;  but  what  sense  is  there  in  placing  inside  faces  of  block 
stone  where  we  give  a  yard  or  more  of  thickness  to  the  walls  ? 
Why  not  in  this  case  adopt  the  sensible  method  of  the  Romans, 
which  consisted  in  fonning  ashlar  casings  only  with  a  few 
bonders,  backed  by  rubble-work,  much  better  fitted  than  block- 
stone  for  receiving  plastering,  pamting,  or  wainscoting  ? 

Making  use  therefore  of  the  methods  left  us  by  our  predeces- 
sors, so  far  as  they  are  apphcable  in  our  times,  and  profiting  by 
the  experience  acquired,  we  proceed  to  consider  in  their  order 
the  resources  which  the  mason  builder  now  has  at  command, 
combining  under  the  same  denomination  the  stnxcture  of  jointed 
stone  and  the  concrete  structure  according  to  the  custom  in 
use. 

Foundations. 

Fi-om  the  very  nature  of  the  ground  on  which  the  Greeks 
erected  theii"  buildings,  they  but  rarely  had  occasion  to  make 
considerable  foundations.  They  prefeired  to  build  on  the  rock, 
and  their  foundations  are  in  truth  merely  basements,  that  is  to 
say,  masses  of  stone-work  laid  close-jointed  without  mortar. 
When  in  particular  cases  they  were  compelled  to  go  deep  down 
for  a  hai-d  bottom,  they  built  their  foundations  of  dry  stone  in 
courses  sometimes  cramped  together  with  iron,  and  raised  on  this 
carefully  executed  foundation  their  plinth  courses.     The  slight 


LECTURE  XL  17 

weight  moreover  of  their  buildings,  which  were  generally  small, 
rendered  foundations  of  great  strength  unnecessary.  The 
Romans,  on  the  contrary,  who  erected  a  great  number  of  colossal 
building-s,  which  from  their  concrete  structure  did  not  accom- 
modate  themselves  to  any  movement  or  settlement,  were  obliged 
to  employ  in  their  foundations  means  for  producing  strength 
exceeding  any  that  have  been  adopted  smce.  The  Romans 
always  went  down  to  solid  ground,  however  deep  it  might  be ; 
and  having  reached  it  they  filled  hi  wide  excavations  with  coarse 
concrete  made  of  stones,  gravel,  and  excellent  mortar ;  and  on 
this  artificial  rock  they  erected  their  buildings.  During  the 
Middle  Ages  both  very  good  and  very  bad  foundations  were 
made  ;  it  was  a  question  of  expense.  There  are  no  finer  founda- 
tions than  those  of  the  cathedrals  of  Paris,  Amiens,  and  Reims ; 
there  are  none  worse  than  those  of  the  cathedi-als  of  Troyes, 
Seez,  and  Chalons-sur-Mame. 

When  the  foundations  of  the  Middle  Ages  are  well  made,  we 
find  them  always  cased  with  a  facmg  of  stone  accurately  dressed 
and  laid,  enclosing  a  coarse  concrete  thrown  in  according  to  the 
Roman  method. 

In  laying  the  foundations  of  an  edifice  two  essential  condi- 
tions have  to  be  observed :  perfect  stabihty  must  be  secured, 
because  our  buildings  are  large,  and  the  means  employed  must 
be  subject  to  conditions  of  economy.  It  is  therefore  important 
to  ascertain  the  methods  wliich  may  satisfy  these  requu'ements. 
Our  towns  are  no  longer  built  on  plateaux  and  elevated  sites  ; 
on  the  contraiy,  they  are  situated  on  the  banks  of  rivers,  and 
frequently  rise  even  from  marshes.  In  these  cases  solid  grovind 
cannot  always  be  met  with,  but  shifted  soils,  mud,  recent  alluvial 
deposits,  and  compressible  gi-ound.  The  ingenuity  of  the  arcliitect 
must  then  compensate  for  that  which  nature  has  refused  him. 

All  virgin  soils,  those,  viz. ,  which  present  a  natural  stratifica- 
tion, are  incompressible, — with  some  special  exceptions,  to  which 
we  shall  presently  refer.  Foundations  may  be  laid  on  sand  or 
clay  and  on  marl,  with  equal  or  even  greater  security  than  on 
rock  or  tufa  :  for  the  deposits  of  sand,  clay,  or  marl  are  homo- 
geneous, settled,  and  without  interstices  ;  while  it  sometimes 
happens  that  rocks  enclose  unsuspected  hollows,  and  fracture  or 
slip  beneath  a  heavy  weight.  But  the  virgin  soil  is  often  fomid 
at  such  great  depths  that  it  would  be  enormously  expensive  to 
lay  it  bare  by  excavating  the  made  eaith  which  covers  it.  In 
this  case,  during  the  Middle  Ages  and  down  to  om-  own  times, 
piles  were  driven  into  this  shifted  earth  as  far  as  they  wovild  go  ; 
on  the  heads  of  the  piles  was  bedded  a  floor  of  framed  oak,  and 
on  this  floor  were  laid  the  first  coiu'ses  of  the  masonry.  This 
system  had  two  disadvantages  :  it  was  very  costly,  and  if  the 
VOL.  II.  B 


18  LECTURES  ON  ARCniTECTURk\ 

piles  were  not  all  equally  driven  in  quite  as  far  aa  was  possible, 
unequal  settlements  were  occasioned,"  and  consequently  disloca- 
tions in  the  building.  Since  tlie  beginning  of  the  present 
century  we  have  employed  for  the  bottom  layers  of  foundations 
concrete  ;^  that  is,  a  mixture  of  moi-tar  made  with  hydrauhc  lime 
and  pebbles  of  equal  size.  Well-made  concrete  possesses  the 
advantage  of  forming  a  united,  homogeneous,  and  incompressible 
mass,  which  hardens  with  time  until  it  forms  a  veritable  rock  on 
which  a  tool  can  make  no  impression.  If  therefore  on  soft  compres- 
sible ground  we  lay  a  sufficiently  thick  bed  of  concrete,  we  obtam 
a  homogeneous  foundation,  which  is  not  easily  broken,  and  which 
forms  a  kind  of  imperishable  floor  upon  which  the  walling  can  be 
raised.  Of  course  the  under  layer  of  concrete  should  have  a 
thickness  proportionate  to  the  weight  it  has  to  sustain.  But  it 
has  the  advantage  of  distributinof  isolated  weisjhts  over  a  large 
surface,  and  consequently  of  diminishing  the  probabilities  of 
unequal  settlements.  There  is  no  ground  so  bad  (provided  it 
does  not'  consist  of  very  recently  shifted  earth)  as  not  to  have 
imdergone  compression  of  itself  by  the  soaking  in  of  rain  and  by 
its  own  weight.  Consequently  it  always  aftbrds  over  a  wide  area 
a  surface  adapted  to  sustain  a  given  weight.  All  that  has  to  be 
done  therefore  is  to  distribute  the  pressures  over  a  surface  which 
shall  compensate  by  its  extent  for  what  it  wants  in  density.  Here 
the  experience  and  consideration  of  the  architect  are  necessary. 

We  must  remember  that  moist  ground  is  much  less  com- 
pressible than  ground  of  a  powdery  nature.  If  therefore  over 
mud  that  is  impregnated  with  moisture  we  lay  a  platform  of 
concrete;  a  yai-d  in  thickness,  for  instance,  we  shall  be  able  safely 
to  erect  on  this  platform  a  stone  building  twenty  yards  high,  con- 
sisting of  isolated  piers  and  walls.  Perhaps  a  settling,  a  sinking, 
will  occur,  but  it  will  take  place  uniformly  and  without  occasion- 
ing dislocations  in  the  building.  Certain  altered  clays,  which 
when  dried  in  the  air  are  light,  and  have  no  more  consistence 
than  peat,  when  in  their  natural  place  beneath  the  ground, 
when  impregnated  with  moisture,  will  not  sufter  compression 
under  enormous  weights,  provided  a  platform  of  concrete  which 
will  have  the  effect  of  a  raft  on  a  thick  bed  of  liquid  mud  is 
interposed  between  that  weight  and  the  clays  in  question.  We 
must  therefore  ascertain  whether  these  soft  beds  are  not  dried 
vxp  for  a  time,  and  whether  their  degree  of  moisture  remains 
always  the  same.  We  have  seen  old  buildings,  in  which  no 
settlement  had  previously  occurred,  dislocated  when  the  ground 
on  which  they  rested  was  drained.  A  danger  to  be  apprehended 
is  that  the  pulpy  ground  may  squeeze  out  under  the  pressure  of 

1  Concrete  is  of  Roman  origin.     The  Romans  used  concrete  not  only  for  making  founda- 
tions, but  also  for  vaulting,  and  for  entire  walls  behind  facings  of  chopped  stone  or  brick. 


LECTURE  XL  19 

the  platform  of  concrete;  when,  e.g.,  hollows  are  formed  around 
buildings,  such  as  large  sewers,  or  even  when  the  surrounding 
ground  is  not  kept  very  compact  by  a  well-maintained  system 
of  embankments,  or  by  other  neighbouring  buildings.  To  obviate 
this  danger  of  the  squeezing  out  of  soft  ground  under  the 
pressm-e  of  a  23latform  of  concrete,  it  is  well  to  form  below  the 
edge  of  the  platform  an  extra  thickness  of  concrete,  forming  an 
under  rim,  as  shown  in  section  by  figure  3 ;  this  rim  A  will  hinder 
the  mud  from  slipj^uig  beneath  the  weight.  Another  precaution 
which  in  this  case  shoidd  always  be  taken,  is,  before  putting 
down  the  concrete,  to  spread  over  the  muddy  ground  a  layer  of 
good  sand  or  gravel  a  few  inches  in  thickness.  This  layer  of 
sand  gives  consistence  to  the  soft  clay,  and  is  especially  useful  in 


Fig.  3. — Fouiitlatinn  on  Soft  Clay. 


preventing  the  concrete  from  being  decomposed  before  it  has 
thoroughly  set. 

Although  the  formation  of  a  platform  of  concrete  may  not 
cost  so  much  as  a  general  system  of  piles,  it  nevertheless  necessi- 
tates a  considerable  outlay.  In  cases  where  the  expense  must 
be  restricted  within  very  narrow  limits,  a  method  which  often 
succeeds,  and  which  we  recommend  as  advantageous,  is  that  of 
making — not  beneath  the  foundation  of  the  perimeter  of  the  build- 
ing, but  outside  that  perimeter,  at  the  bottom  of  the  excavation 
— a  wall  half  a  yard  in  thickness  and  in  height,  of  masonry  built 
mth  mortar  made  with  hydraulic  Imie,  and  filling  in  the  whole 
interior  area,  that  is  the  surface  which  the  building  woidd 
occupy,  with  good  sand,  well  rammed  and  wetted,  as  shown  in 
the  section,  figure  4.  On  this  artificial  ground  may  then  be  built 
the  foundation-walls.  Settlement  occurs,  but  it  occurs  equally. 
Of  course  this  method  can  only  be  resorted  to  when  the  budd- 
ings are  not  excessively  heavy. 

Again,  it  may  happen  that  in  excavating  a  foundation,  you 
will  find  the  bed  of  an  old  stream,  or  of  a  trench  that  has  been 
filled  up,  and  that  thus  by  the  side  of  an  excellent  bottom, — a 
soil  of  tufa,  for  instance, — you  have  a  vacuity,  a  void  space  of  more 
or  less  extent.     When  the  vacuity  is  not  too  wide,  it  is  sufficient 


20 


LECTURES  OX  ARCHITECTURE. 


to  cut  a  slope  in  the  sides  of  the  tufa,  excavate  the  made  earth  to 
a  convex  shape,  and  fill  in  the  space  a  (fig.  5)  with  concrete, 
without  troubling  to  find  the  bottom  of  the  made  earth  B.  You 
then  obtain  a  kind  of  concrete  arch,  to  which  you  give  a  thick- 
ness proportioned  to  the  weight  it  will  have  to  carry.  It  will  be 
understood  that  I  do  not  here  purpose  to  lay  down  absolute  rules, 
but  to  point  out  methods,  of  whose  efficiency  the  a,rcliitect  must 
be  the  judge  according  to  circumstances  ;  for  as  the  cases  vary, 
so  must  the  means.  The  architect,  in  consequence  of  deficient 
elementary  knowledge,  is  too  often  mclined,  in  difficulties  of  this 
sort,  to  rely  on  the  opinion  of  builders,  whose  interest  it  naturally 
is  not  to  lessen  the  expenditure,  and  who,  fearing  to  compromise 
themselves,  are  inchned  to  adopt  the  means  they  consider  safe, 
however  costly  they  may  be.  Concrete  is  of  unmense  service  in 
foundation-walls,  if  we  duly  consider  its  properties  and  observe 
the  natiire  of  the  ground  we  have  to  deal  with.     We  have  seen 


Fio.  «.— Fouii.hitiuu  oil  Snft  Cluy. 


Fra.  5. — Foundation  on  partly-made  Ground. 


buildings  of  no  inconsiderable  weight  erected,  whose  foundations 
were  laid  on  a  very  treacherous  soil  mingled  with  vegetable  debris, 
by  sinking  at  intervals  in  this  alluvium  conical  holes,  which  were 
filled  with  good  sand,  and  covering  the  whole  with  a  layer  of 
concrete,  twelve  or  eighteen  inches  thick,  without  the  occurrence 
of  the  slightest  settlement ;  so  that,  excepting  turf-bog,  there  is 
scarcely  any  ground  which  we  should  now  regard  as  absolutely 
unsafe,  and  in  which  piles  would  be  necessary  to  sustain  a  build- 
ing of  considerable  weight. 

Clays  afibrd  a  foundation  that  is  excellent  and  incompressible, 
if  they  are  prevented  from  slippmg  or  being  squeezed  out. 
This  is  easy  on  plane  and  homogeneous  ground ;  but  if  the  clays 
are  on  the  slope  of  a  hill,  there  is  great  danger  of  the  weight 
causing  them  to  slip  or  be  squeezed  out  on  their  slanting  bed. 
The  most  careful  precautions  are  then  indispensable  to  prevent 
springs  or  even  rain-water  from  moistening  these  clays,  and  thus 
occasioning  their  slipping.  In  front  of  the  foundations  therefore 
we  must  form  culvert  drains  perfectly  water-tight  on  the  side 
next  the  buildings,  and  terminating  at  a  considerable  distance 


LECTURE  XL 


21 


from  the  plateau  on  which  they  stand.  For  example,  let  a 
(fig.  6)  be  a  building  situated  on  a  slope  b  c  formed  of  clay.  The 
line  a  h  marks  the  foundation-level.  It  will  be  necessary  to  form 
outside,  along  the  whole  length  of  wall  G,  a  culvert  di'ain  D 
perforated  with  slits  on  the  side  g,  water-tight  on  the  side  h, 
and  having  its  channel  i  a  httle  lower  than  the  fii'st  course 
of  the  foundations.  Naturally,  this  culvert  will  have  a  rather 
rapid  fall,  and  wiU  discharge  the  water  it  collects  at  a  distance 


MJ 
Fia.  6.— Foundations  on  Clayey  Slopes. 


from  the  building.  This  culvert  will  also  be  an  excellent  means 
of  preventing  damp  in  the  cellars  H  of  the  building,  and  the  con- 
sequent fonnation  of  saltpetre  on  the  basement  courses  K.  When 
for  economical  reasons  we  are  unable  to  make  a  culvert  drain,  it 
will  at  least  be  necessaiy  to  carry  down  the  foundations  of  the 
back  wall  lower  than  those  of  the  front  wall,  as  shown  in  the 
section  p,  and  to  coat  the  wall  outside  with  cement  down  to  its 


22 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


foot.  The  whole  of  the  clay  ground  E  will  then  be  rendered 
permanently  diy,  and  the  water,  compelled  to  pass  at  ST,  will 
leave  above  it  a  mass  of  clay  sufficiently  compact  and  thick  not 
to  be  pressed  out  imder  the  weight  of  the  foundations  towards 
the  lower  side,  and  to  ofier  resistance  to  the  slipping  of  the  under 
layer  of  clay  V. 

When  the  ground  consists  of  pure  clay,  that  is  of  very  fat 
slippery  matter,  it  will  be  well  to  drive  in  with  a  beetle  (all 
the  above  described  precautions  being  taken)  vmder  the  walls, 
and  before  laying  the  concrete  or  beginning  the  walling,  pieces  of 
schist  or  flat  hard  stones  edgewise,  as  shown  at  M,  or  even  small 
oak  piles  flat  and  pointed,  from  eighteen  inches  to  two  feet  in' 
length.     On  these  clayey  grounds  it  is  always  desu-able  to  give 


Fig.  7.— Eomnn  method  of  Building  agaiust  a  B.-mk. 

a  considerable  width  of  footing  to  the  lower  part  of  the  founda- 
tion-walls. 

The  Romans  adopted  numerous  precautions  to  render  tlie 
underground  chambers  perfectly  dry  and  healthy.  To  obtam  tliis 
result  they  employed  various  methods.  If  a  room  was  against 
solid  gi'ound,  they  built  outside  a  retainmg-wall  (a,  fig.  7), 
separated  by  a  hollow  from  the  main  wall,  to  which  it  was  tied 
at  intervals  by  bricks  or  stones,  b  ;  they  left  shts  in  the  retain- 
ing-wall,  and  formed  at  the  bottom  c  an  inclined  channel  to  throw 
ofi:'  on  the  outside  the  soakings  percolating  through  the  slits.  If 
we  make  a  longitudinal  section  through  the  isolating  S23ace,  the 
retaining-wall  then  shows  as  in  the  cliagram,  d  e  being  the  tie- 
stones  or  bricks  and  F  the  slits.  These  brick  or  stone  ties  were 
intended  to  hinder  the  retaining-wall  from  giving  beneath  the 
pressure  of  the  bank.      The  Romans  were  sometimes  content 


LECTURE  XL 


23 


(fig.  7  his)  to  parget  the  wall  on  the  side  of  the  bank  with  a 
good  coat  of  mortar  with  a  footing  at  bottom  K.  The  soakings 
flowing  along  this  damp-proof  coating  conld  not  penetrate 
into  the  masonry.  In  bnilduig  our  cellar  walls  we  nearly  always 
neglect  to  put  an  exterior  coating.  As  foundation-walls  are  not 
smooth-faced,  but  present  numerous  rugosities,   the  water  in- 


Fio.  7  his. — Romau  method  of  EuiJding  .against  a  Bank. 


variably  penetrates  them  at  last.  Having  discovered  the 
mischief,  we  seek  to  cure  it  by  damp-proof  cementmg  applied 
inside ;  but  this  means  cannot  in  any  degree  hinder  the  walls 
from  being  saturated  with  moisture,  which  ultimately  throws 
out  saltpetre  and  detaches  the  cement.  The  mediaeval  buildei's 
employed  an   excellent   method   for  preventmg   the  wet  from 


Fig.  8.— Mediaeval  Foundation  Wallrf, 


penetrating  through  the  imderground  walls  :  they  faced  these 
walls  outside  with  fine  deep  courses,  and  as  carefully  as  those 
above  grovmd  (fig.  8).  The  soakings  produced  by  the  adjacent 
earth  finding  nothing  to  arrest  them  on  these  facings,  glided  over 
them,  and  did  not  penetrate  into  the  masomy.  Certam  kinds  of 
stone  are,  however,  so  absorbent  that  even  when  placed  in  the 


24  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

open  air,  above  the  foundations,  they  soon  draw  np  the  moisture 
of  the  groiuid,  and  gradually  raise  it  to  a  considerable  height. 
Such  are  the  sandstones,  certain  rocks  of  the  basins  of  the  Aisne 
and  the  Oise,  of  Burgundy  and  Upper  Champagne.  There  is 
only  one  means  of  preventing  this  result  of  capillary  attraction, 
which  is  to  put  between  the  upper  surface  of  the  foundations 
and  the  first  com'se  above  ground  a  layer  of  impermeable  sub- 
stance, such  as  asphalte,  slabs  of  schist,  or  even  mill-board  well 
tarred.  Thin  slates  were  often  used  during  the  Middle  Ages  to 
obviate  this  capillary  effect,  which  is  so  fatal  to  the  durability  of 
boildmgs  at  the  level  of  the  ground ;  for  we  shall  observe  that 
courses  of  sandstone,  for  example,  laid  immediately  on  the 
foundation,  and  forming  basements,  absorb  a  quantity  of  water 
sufficiently  considerable  to  effect  the  dismtegi'ation  of  the  first 
courses  of  freestone  which  sm-moimt  them,  and  the  more  rapidly 
since  certain  of  these  sandstones  contain  salts  in  abundance. 
In  great  buildings  standing  by  themselves, — mansions,  e.g., — too 
many  precautions  cannot  be  taken  to  insure  the  dryness  of  walls 
just  above  the  ground,  by  drainmg,  by  cementing  the  outer 
surfaces  of  foundations,  or,  lastly,  by  the  interposition  of  a  damp 
course. 

Masonry  in  Elevation. 

In  cases  where  we  have  both  weatherstone  and  freestone,  it 
is  of  great  consequence  to  the  architect  that  each  should  occupy 
its  proper  place. 

And  this  is  not  merely  a  question  of  good  constraction,  but 
also  of  economy.  Of  course  the  basements  should  always  be 
built  of  weatherstone ;  first,  because  it  is  better  able  to  bear 
weight  and  resist  injuries  than  freestone ;  second,  because  it  is 
less  pervious  and  less  liable  to  give  out  saltpetre.  But  above 
the  basements  there  are  some  kinds  of  weatherstone  which  do 
not  so  well  resist  atmospheric  effects  as  freestone ;  or,  again,  it 
may  even  happen  that  weatherstone  has  a  destructive  influence 
on  the  freestone  it  ought  to  protect.  This  phenomenon  may  be 
remarked  in  many  of  our  public  edifices.  Vergel^'  used  on 
buildings  for  the  projecting  features — bold  string-courses  and 
cornices — has  endured  for  centuries  in  the  open  air ;  but  laid  be- 
neath a  slab  of  weatherstone,  the  vergele  has  been  rapidly  decom- 
posed. Vergeld  in  the  open  aii-  and  exposed  to  the  rain  Avcars 
away  in  course  of  time,  but  is  not  disintegrated ;  it  is  gradually 
reduced,  but  does  not  scale  or  perish  in  dust.  The  reason  is, 
that  stone  of  this  kind,  being  very  porous,  dries  as  qviickly  as 
it  imbibes  moisture.     In  its  case  the  rain-water  never  remains 

'  A  freestone  found  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Paris. 


LECTURE  XL  25 

long  enough  in  Its  contexture  to  decompose  it,  whether  through 
the  action  of  frost  or  the  development  of  salts.  But  if  the  pro- 
jecting stones  in  question  are  covered  by  a  slab  of  hard  stone, 
even  of  a  very  close-grained  nature,  the  latter  invariably  pro- 
duces the  effect  of  a  filter,  and  so  causes  the  moisture  gradually 
to  penetrate  into  the  underlying  freestone,  which,  not  being 
able  to  dry,  develops  salts  or  perishes  by  frost.  The  followuig 
'fig.  9)  is  what  takes  place.  Let  A  be  a  cornice  of  vergele  covered 
)y  a  tabling  of  weatherstone  b  c.  The  moisture  communicated 
rom  the  hard  stone  to  the  soft  by  percolation  cannot  be  evapor- 
ated by  the  air :  it  develops  salts  in  the  interior  of  the  layer, 
which  eventually  crystallise  on  the  under  surface  at  G ;  and  signs 
of  decay  are  soon  visible  beneath  the  di'ip,— first,  by  an  efflor- 
escence, then  by  scaUng,  and  lastly  by  decided  exfoHation.  The 
same  cornice  not  covered  with  hard  stone  would  be  weathered, 
worn  by  the  rain,  but  not  decomposed.  In  such  cases,  metal  is 
greatly  preferable  to  hard  stone,  inasmuch  as  it  is  impervious 


Fig.  9  — Danger  of  covering  Freestone  by  Wpatherstone. 

to  moisture.  The  same  phenomenon  occurs  beneath  gnitters  of 
hard  stone  laid  on  the  thickness  of  a  wall.  These  gutters  will  be 
durable  if  the  stone  is  good,  but  the  underlying  outer  courses  will 
soon  present  symptoms  of  decay.  Special  care  must  therefore 
be  taken  in  making  use  of  weatherstone  as  a  protection  to  free- 
stone. The  section  of  mouldings  greatly  influences  the  preser- 
vation of  stone-work,  and  those  should  always  be  adopted  which 
tend  to  throw  off  the  rain-water  quickly.  On  this  account  the 
mouldings  now  usually  employed,  and  which  are  considered 
imitations  of  the  classic,  are  very  bad,  inasmuch  as  they  nearly 
always  present  surfaces  opposed  to  the  rain,  and  consequently 
obstacles  to  its  rapid  discharge,  while  they  cause  splashings, 
very  injurious  to  the  surfaces  which  surmount  these  horizontal 
obstacles  :  for  (fig.  9)  the  rain  which  beats  on  the  surface  bc 
splashes  in  fine  drops  along  the  surface  u  D,  impregnates  it  ^^•ith 
moistui-e  and  causes  its  decay.  As  a  general  rule,  soft  and 
porous  stone  should  either  be  placed  so  as  to  be  entirely  pro- 


26 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


tected  from  moisture,  or  isolated  so  that  it  may  be  readily  dried 
by  the  air  :  the  placing  of  hard  over  soft  stones  hastens  the  decay 
of  the  latter,  especially  if  those  hard  stones,  though  excellent  in 
quality,  are  very  hygrometric,  like  the  Cherance  stone  and  sand- 
stones, limestones  of  Burgundy  known  as  Anstrude,  Mance,  and 
Raviferes  stone.  We  need  not  go  far  to  find  cornices  made  not 
long  ago  of  Saint-Leu  stone,  and  covered  with  slabs  of  Cherance, 
which  are  ah-eady  perishing.'  If  it  is  possible  by  not  adhering 
exactly  to  mouldings  recognised  as  classic,  to  avoid  the  decay 
which  manifests  itself  beneath  horizontal  surfaces,  it  is  of  essen- 
tial importance  to  secure  the  preservation  of  weatherstone  gutter- 
courses.  In  such  cases  it  is  advisable  either  to  carry  these 
gutters  on  corbels  that  leave  their  under-beds  exposed  to  the 
air,  or  to  contiive  between  that  under-bed  and  the  underlying 
surface  ©f  freestone  a  hollow  space  with  ventilation  at  intervals, 
as  shown  in  figure  10.    The  mediseval  builders,  who  so  frequently 


Fio.  10. — Isolated  Stone  Gutters. 


placed  gutters  or  exterior  passages  at  the  mid-height  of  their 
buildings,  were  always  careful  to  isolate  these  courses  underneath 
by  supporting  them  either  on  corbels  or  on  double  walls,  as,  e.g., 
in  the  upper  galleries  of  churches  (see  a,  fig.  10). 

The  Romans,  by  always  erecting  theu'  dressed  masonry  close- 
jointed,  without  mortar,  keeping  it,  so  to  speak,  independent  of 
the  backing,  insured  the  preservation  of  the  faces.  This  was  all 
the  more  necessary  as  they  used  hydraulic  lime,  which  develops 
salts  in  abundance,  and  since  the  presence  of  mortar  in  the  beds 
and  joints  induces  the  decay  of  the  edges  of  the  stone.  This 
decay  shows  itself  round  the  stone  next  the  mortar  by  an  effior- 
escence,  subsequently  by  exfoliation,  to  such  a  degree  that  in 
the  course  of  a  century  this  (fig.  11)  is  what  takes  place.  The 
mortar  beds  A  endure,  the  surfaces  of  the  stone  are  preserved  at 
B,  and  the  parts  c  are  deeply  decayed.  This  phenomenon  may 
be  observed  in  many  of  the  mediaeval  buildings,  which  were 

*  Notably  at  the  palace  of  the  Conseil  il'Etat,  iu  Paris. 


LECTURE  XL  27 

erected,  as  we  know,  with  thick  mortar  joints  between  each 
course.  But  the  mediseval  buildings  are  nearly  always  erected 
with  small  courses ;  mortar  consequently  plays  an  important 
part  m  their  construction.  This  cannot  be  the  case  with  our 
modern  stone  buildings,  which  are  erected  with  large  blocks,  and 
which  should  therefore  be  constructed  in  the  Roman  method. 
It  may  be  remarked  that  the  difficulty  involved  in  close-jointed 
masonry  has  been  greatly  exaggerated.  It  is  not  necessary,  as 
some  writers  tell  us,  to  rub  the  beds  of  stone  one  against  the 
other  to  obtain  a  perfect  junction.  Besides,  admitting  that  the 
ancients  used  this  method  for  the  beds,  how  could  they  have 
applied  it  to  the  joints  ?  But  the  vertical  joints  of  the  ancient 
buildings  are  as  accurately  fitted  as  the  beds.  It  is  sufficient  to 
dress  these  beds  and  joints  very  truly  to  the  straight  edge,  and 
to  set  the  stones  with  the  lewis.     By  examining  attentively  the 


Fro.  11— Disintegration  of  Stone  caused  by  Itortar  Joints. 

beds  and  joints  of  the  massive  order  of  Roman  masonry,  tbc 
dressing-marks  made  by  a  tool  similar  to  the  toothed  chisel  can 
be  plainly  distinguished  :  but  while  in  many  Roman  buildings 
the  faces  are  roughly  dressed,  or  sometimes  even  simply  scabbled, 
the  beds  and  joints  are  invariably  dressed  with  perfect  accuracy. 
This  may  be  observed  even  in  buildings  of  late  date.  The 
stability  of  the  massive  Roman  masonry  is,  in  fact,  entirely  due 
to  the  clo.se  fitting  of  the  beds  and  joints.  Not  satisfied  with 
this  means  alone,  the  Romans  thought  it  necessary  also  to  connect 
the  courses  by  dowels  or  dovetail  keys  of  metal,  iron,  or  bronze, 
in  order  to  prevent  their  giving.  All  the  stone  or  marble  build- 
ings of  ancient  Rome  show  at  the  corners  of  the  beds  of  each  of 
the  stones,  sinkings  intended  to  receive  metal  dowels.  During 
the  Middle  Ages  many  of  these  dowels  were  extracted  :  that  is 


28  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

why  we  see  in  the  walls  of  these  buildings  a  number  of  holes 
made  with  the  mallet  and  chisel  to  set  out  the  metal.  These 
dowels  were  usually  of  the  form  presented  in  figure  12,  the  part 
A  being  let  into  the  upper  bed  of  the  lower  course  and  the  part 
B  into  the  under  bed  of  the  upper  course  (see  the  detail  c).  In 
marble  masonry  these  dowels  were  often  of  bi'onze,  in  stone 
masonry  (Travertine)  they  were  ordinarily  of  iron.  Their  utility 
is  however  questionable,  since  the  walls  from  which  they  have 
been  abstracted  have  remained  none  the  less  finn. 

The  Roman  buildings  were  pretty  solidly  based.  The  rubble- 
work  of  which  they  consisted  was  sufficiently  compact  and 
homogeneous,  and  the  masonry  in  blocks  of  sufficient  size,  to 
render  it  unnecessary  that  they  should  be  tied  or  cramped ; 
accordingly  the  la\ash  use  of  dowels  scarcely  appears  in  any  but 
the  splendid  edifices  of  ancient  Rome,  and  is  uncommon  in  other 


\^-^ 

^iMiniilliiei^  II 


Fia.  12— Dowelled  Masonry. 

countries.  Still  the  Romans  sometimes  thought  it  advantageous 
to  ci-amp  together  -the  stones  of  a  course  with  dovetails  of  ii'on  or 
bronze  run  with  lead.  This  was  in  fact  necessary  in  certain 
hydraulic  works,  and  to  secure  friezes  or  cornices  above  porticos. 
We  have  even  found  such  dovetails  in  wood.'  But  of  chain-ties, 
properly  so  called,  there  are  no  vestiges.  During  the  Middle 
Ages,  that  is  to  say,  dating  from  the  end  of  the  twelfth  centuiy, 
iron  cramps  leaded  in  were  frequently  used  to  tie  together  the 
stones  of  a  course  ;  these  cramps  thus  formed  veritable  chain-ties 
at  various  heights.  In  reference  to  these  a  remarkable  fact  may 
be  noted.  When  the  iron  is  in  contact  with  the  stone  only, 
whether  run  with  lead  or  not,  it  rusts  but  little,  consequently 
does  not  swell,  and  occasions  no  cracks  in  the  stone  ;  but  if  there 
is  mortar  next  the  u'on,  that  is,  if  above  these  cramps  which 
connect  the  stones  of  a  course  there  are  thick  beds  of  mortar, 
the   cramps,  whether  surroimded   by  lead  or  not,   must  very 

'  In  the  substructions  of  the  Arch  of  Saintes. 


LECTURE  XL  29 

quickly  swell  and  burst  the  stones.     The  oxidation  is  still  more 
rapid  if  the  beds  are  filled  with  plaster  of  Paris. 

The  Romans,  therefore,  when  they  employed  metal  in  certain 
cases  to  strengthen  masonry,  since  they  laid  their  stone  without 
mortar,  had  not  the  effect  of  oxidation  to  fear,  whereas,  in  our 
mediaeval  edifices  and  in  those  we  are  now  erecting,  the  presence 
of  metal  in  the  masonry  is  a  serious  danger,  smce  we  invariably 
interpose  beds  of  mortar  or  plaster-of-Paris  between  the  stones. 
But  we  shall  revert  later  on  to  the  employment  of  iron  in 
masonry. 

Not  regarding  elasticity  as  one  of  the  conditions  of  structure, 
the  Romans  proceeded  in  a  logical  manner  by  laying  the  courses 
\vith  close  joints,  or  by  fiUing  in  between  facings  of  brick  or 
chopped  stones  with  masses  of  concrete  walling. 

On  the  other  hand,  considering  elasticity  one  of  the  conditions 
of  structure,  the  mediaeval  builders  did  not  proceed  less  logically 
in  laying  the  courses  of  their  buildings  on  thick  beds  of  mortar. 
It  is  in  fact  natural  to  adopt  one  or  other  of  these  methods.  If 
we  imitate  the  Roman  style  of  architecture  let  us  build  like  the 
Romans  ;  if,  on  the  other  hand,  we  build  like  our  predecessors  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  viz.,  by  making  use  of  mortar  in  the  dressed 
work,  let  us  abstain  from  adopting  the  Roman  style  of  architec- 
ture, which  cannot  adapt  itself  to  that  method.  If  we  do  not 
require  the  structure  to  possess  a  certain  degree  of  elasticity,  let 
us  build  after  the  Roman  method,  wliich  gives  an  absolutely 
inert  stability ;  but  if  we  are  compelled  by  our  requu-ements  to 
seciu-e  elasticity  to  a  cei^tain  extent  in  our  buildings,  let  us  not 
seek  to  imitate  (and  imperfectly)  the  appearance  of  Roman 
structmre.  In  a  word,  let  us  make  our  methods  of  building 
hannonise  with  the  architectiu'al  forms  we  profess  to  adopt,  or, 
if  our  methods  of  building  are  satisfactory,  let  us  not  seek  to 
reproduce  architectural  forms  that  are  at  variance  with  those 
methods.  We  have  on  the  whole  too  flattering  an  opinion  of 
oui'  methods  of  builcUng  as  regards  masoniy.  We  really  build 
poorly,  expensively,  and  without  due  consideration  of  the  nature 
of  the  materials.  If  rents  and  dislocations  do  not  show  them- 
selves in  our  public  buildings,  it  is  because  we  make  use  of  twice 
as  much  materials  as  would  be  absolutely  necessary ;  but  it  is 
clear  that  this  extravagance  is  costly.  As  regards  economy  and 
the  judicious  use  of  materials,  our  private  houses  are  very  much 
better  built  than  our  public  edifices.  We  often  make  an  intelli- 
gent use  of  cast  or  wrought  non  and  of  stone  or  brick  in  oiu* 
domestic  buildings,  while  a  few  steps  off  we  see  in  our  public 
buildingfs  enoi-mous  masses  of  stone  accumulated  out  of  all  reason, 
metal  being  never  employed  except  for  floors,  tie-bars,  and  roofs. 
Yet  it  is  not  to  be  doubted  that  if  the  Romans  had  had  at  their 


30  LECrUBt'S  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

command  cast-iron  of  large  dimensions  they  would  have  used  it. 
The  mediasval  builders  would  have  been  glad  to  possess  that 
material,  for  they  did  their  best  to  find  a  substitute  for  it  by 
using  very  tough  stone  placed  on  end,  when  heavy  masses  had 
to  be  erected  on  slight  supports.  It  is  strange  that  our  architects, 
possessed  of  materials  so  various,  so  novel,  and  at  the  same  time 
already  so  well  tested,  and  having  at  hand  illustrations  of  all 
styles  of  architecture,  from  those  of  ancient  times  to  those  of 
most  recent  date,  should  consider  themselves  obliged,  amid  such 
fruitful  elements,  always,  when  the  erection  of  a  public  building 
is  in  question,  to  keep  to  the  system  of  construction  employed 
during  the  seventeenth  century,  when,  if  people  wrote  in  a  very 
good  style,  they  built  very  badly.  Even  if  we  do  not  use  cast- 
iron  for  supports,  have  we  not  now  tough  stones  whose  quality 
is  equal  to  that  of  the  most  compact  marbles  ?  Why  not  make 
due  use  of  these  materials,  by  giving  them  the  slender  forms 
which  their  strength  admits  of?  Wliy — -and  I  come  back  to 
this  important  point — put  solid  blocks  of  stone  when  rubble- 
filling  would  suffice  ?  Why  is  it  that  the  laureates  of  the 
Academy,  on  their  return  from  Rome  or  Greece,  do  not  bring 
with  them,  when  they  come  to  build  in  France,  any  of  the 
excellent  methods  of  building  employed  by  the  Romans,  but 
still  adhere  to  the  routine  of  the  seventeenth-centmy  builders, 
who  were  much  less  skilful  than  their  predecessors  1  Why  land 
so  highly  the  arts  of  classic  Rome,  and  yearly  send  youthful 
architects  to  draw  inspiration  from  the  buildings  it  has  left  us, 
if  the  study  of  those  buildings  is  to  end  in  nothing  more  than 
counterfeiting  an  architecture  whose  rationale  we  do  not  investi- 
gate, and  if  in  our  study  of  those  vast  and  beautiful  edifices  we 
do  not  fix  upon  that  which  is  theii-  essential  part,  the  structure, 
with  a  view  to  its  appUcation,  as  far  as  it  is  apphcable,  to  our  own 
requirements  and  social  conditions  ?  It  is  long  since  thei'e  has 
ever  been  an  attempt  to  explain  these  contradictions  ;  but  stones 
continue  to  be  piled  up  as  iirationally  as  ever,  and  while  novel 
materials  abound  they  have  led  to  no  change  in  the  methods  of 
building.  Machmes  are  being  improved,  and  enormous  blocks 
of  stone  are  easily  lifted  with  their  aid  to  great  heights,  but 
apparently  mth  a  view  to  cut  them  up  into  architectural 
members  adapted  for  stones  of  small  dimensions  such  as  those 
which  were  lifted  with  sheers.  We  might  make  good  use  of 
these  fine  materials — as  the  ancients  never  failed  to  do.  On  the 
contrary,  we  make  a  point  of  putting  them  out  of  sight  beneath 
a  mass  of  details  and  mouldings,  which  make  oui'  largest  edifices 
look  like  cabinet  work-boxes  or  rubble-work  coated  with  stucco. 
Amid  this  collection  of  mouldings,  square  returns,  j^ilasters, 
architraves,  meagre  archivolts,  string-courses,  and  la%ash  carvings, 


LECTURE  XI.  31 

we  look  for  one  of  the  enormous  stones  we  saw  being  hoisted  to 
vast  heights,  and  we  perceive  oiily  small  surfaces — forms  cut  in 
every  direction ;  those  prodigious  blocks  have  disappeared. 
Why  then  not  build,  as  they  built  in  the  sixteenth  century, 
with  small  materials  ? 

To  give  a  clearer  notion  of  the  illogicality  that  seems  to 
prevail  in  oiu'  more  pretentious  architectural  works,  I  will  here 
call  attention  to  a  fact  which  will  show  to  what  the  neglect  of 
intelligent  consideration  in  the  employment  of  materials  has  led 
us.  At  the  begimiing  of  the  seventeenth  century  we  made 
considerable  use  of  a  combination  of  brick  and  stone  ;  and  the 
method  was  rational.  Stone  served  for  the  corners  of  buildings, 
— for  vertical  ties  ;  that  is  for  the  parts  which  had  to  support 
the  heaviest  weights,  for  wmdow-cases  and  string-courses, — ^the 
first  to  facilitate  the  fixing  of  the  windows,  the  second  to 
level  up  and  tie  the  walls  horizontally ;  in  such  case  the  brick 
was  merely  an  exterior  casing  for  rubble-work,  since  it  had  been 
found  that  in  our  climate  outside  plastering  on  rubble-work  was 
not  durable.  This  mode  of  building  was  very  good,  very  sen- 
sible and  economical ;  moreover,  it  plainly  indicated  to  the  eye 
the  method  employed.  Now  it  ha])pened  that  a  shoi-t  time  ago 
the  taste  for  this  kind  of  buildings  revived,  and  with  a  view  to 
simvdate  their  appearance  we  have  seen  wall  piers  erected  of 
solid  stone,  to  let  in  .  .  .  marble  ?  .  .  .  bronze  ?  .  .  .  No  I 
brick.  This  is  much  the  same  as  if  we  embroidered  a  satin 
dress  with  cotton  or  worsted.  If  our  descendants  build  more 
rationally  than  we  do,  they  will  some  day  be  much  astonished 
to  discover  block  stone  behind  these  brick  casmgs,  whose  proper 
use  was  to  conceal  rough-waUing  and  replace  plastering,  and 
will  be  inclined  to  conclude  that  in  our  times  brick  was  a  costly 
and  highly-valued  material. 

It  would  seem  as  if  we  regarded  block  stone  as  a  natural 
production  of  which  we  cannot  be  too  lavish,  so  great  is  the 
abundance  ;  and  yet  we  see  quarries  exhausted  after  some  years' 
working.  There  is  no  longer  any  stone  fit  to  build  with  in  the 
plain  of  Montrouge  and  Bagneux,  which  for  many  centuries 
supplied  Paris  with  materials.  Some  of  the  best  quarries  in  the 
basins  of  the  Oise  and  Aisne  are  exhausted.  We  are  now  com- 
pelled to  seek  weatherstones  in  Burgundy,  in  the  Jura,  and  the 
Haute-Saone  ;  and  here  too  it  is  the  quarry  proprietors  who  come 
to  ofier  theii'  materials  to  the  architects.  It  does  not  occur  to  the 
latter  to  visit  our  Departments,  and  to  gather  information  for 
themselves  in  each  locality  respectuig  the  stone  most  suitable 
for  building.  Why  do  we  not  employ  in  Paris  the  lavas  of 
Auvergne,  which  otfer  so  many  advantages ;  the  sandstones  of 
the  Vosges,  incomparable    in    quality  when  well  selected ;  the 


32  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

schists  of  Abjou  or  Autun,  which  would  be  so  serviceable  in  very 
thin  courses  to  prevent  the  effects  of  capillary  attraction  ;  the 
granites  of  the  Vosges  and  of  the  Morvan,  which  would  enable 
us  to  make  very  strong  and  slender  monoliths  ?  Why,  in  cases 
where  in  our  great  buildings  we  think  it  desirable  to  use  lintels, 
do  we  always  adhere  to  the  plan  of  arch-jointing  and  support- 
ing with  iron,  and  not  employ  for  the  purpose  single  stones  such  as 
those  with  which  the  quarries  of  Chauvigny  in  Poitou,  those  of 
Anstrude  in  Burgundy,  and  others  besides,  would  supply  us  % 
If  expense  is  the  objection,  would  it  not  be  easy  to  economise  in 
the  useless  masses  of  block  stone  now  employed  by  using  block 
material  only  where  necessary,  and  then  selecting  it  for  the 
pur|30se  ?  The  Romans  were  great  builders ;  but  with  what 
care  did  they  choose  their  materials  !  how  intelligently  did  they 
employ  them  as  regards  then-  qualities,  and  without  ever  wasting 
them !  How  is  it  that,  possessing,  as  we  do  in  France,  building 
stone  in  the  greatest  variety,  of  the  greatest  excellence,  and 
having  to  a  much  greater  extent  than  the  Romans  the  means  of 
quick  and  easy  transport,  we  are  inferior  to  them  in  this  impor- 
tant respect  ?  And  again  I  say,  let  not  expense  be  made  a 
pretext,  for — I  repeat  it — we  are  wasting  vast  sums  in  our  public 
buildings  by  a  ridiculously  lavish  use  of  block  stone,  as  if  we  had 
not,  like  the  Romans,  excellent  limes,  gravel,  imperishable  rubble- 
stone  and  brick ! 

In  fact  we  have  to  begin  again  as  regards  the  art  of  masonry  ; 
we  must  forget  aU  the  methods  in  use  during  the  last  three 
centuries,  and  inaugurate  fresh  ones  based  on  the  experience 
gained  by  the  ancients  and  the  mediaeval  builders,  with  due  con- 
sideration of  the  abundant  resources  which  our  own  times  have 
contributed.  But  to  obtain  this  result  certain  conditions  must 
be  fulfilled.  Architects  should  be  asked  to  consider  the  struc- 
tiure  at  least  as  much  as  the  appearance,  and  not  follow  the 
routine  methods  in  vogue  with  most  contractors ;  to  be  so  well 
assured  of  the  goodness  and  soundness  of  methods  they  adopt 
as  to  be  able  to  insure  then-  adoption  and  appreciation  by  those 
who  carry  out  their  work — for  happily,  among  ourselves,  every 
clearly  explained  method  is  immediately  accepted  by  our  crafts- 
men ;  to  mark  out  their  stone  jointing  for  themselves  as  did 
the  masters  of  the  Middle  Ages,  who  are  most  frequently  dis- 
paraged by  the  very  persons  who  are  incapable  of  imitating 
them  ;  to  be  acquainted  with  the  materials,  and  to  see  about 
them  themselves  ;  to  consult  then-  reason  rather  than  their  port- 
foUos,  and  to  consider  that  in  architecture  a  wise  economy  is  a 
proof  of  knowledge  and  taste.  Uselessly  to  consume  means 
which  woidd  be  well  employed  in  satisfymg  absolute  require- 
ments is  certainly  not  a  proof  of  good  sense  or  of  correct  taste. 


LECTURE  XL  33 

In  every  specimen  of  mason-work  each  piece  taken  sepa- 
rately in  the  case  of  dressed  stone,  or  each  section  in  concrete 
works,  shotdd  clearly  indicate  its  function.  We  ought  to  be 
able  to  analyse  a  building,  as  we  take  a  puzzle  to  pieces,  so  that 
the  place  and  function  of  each  of  the  pai-ts  camiot  be  mistaken. 
The  ancients  have  given  us  examples  of  such  work ;  and  when 
we  find  the  ruins  of  one  of  their  buildings  it  is  owing  to  the 
observance  of  this  principle  that  we  can  unmistakably  restore 
it.  The  great  builders  of  the  Middle  Ages  were  more  rigorous, 
if  not  than  the  Greeks,  at  least  more  so  than  the  Romans, 
in  the  application  of  this  method  of  building.  With  them 
each  piece  of  dressed  stone  is  an  indispensable  member,  complete 
in  itself, — a  kind  of  organ  which,  subjected  to  analysis,  finds  its 
exact  place  and  function  in  the  whole.  We  can  imagine  the 
interest  which  works  of  masomy  thus  conceived  must  possess, 
not  merely  for  him  who  designs  but  also  for  those  who  execute 
them  and  those  who  see  them.  Each  stone  having  a  distinct 
function,  the  combination  which  directs  their  assemblage  testifies 
to  an  intellectual  labour  which  leaves  an  indehble  trace  on 
the  building,  and  dictates  a  well-mai'ked  and  characteristic 
form ;  the  workman  is  conscious  of  being  engaged  in  a  labour 
whose  use  he  comprehends,  and  he  has  the  spur  of  emulation 
and  a  feeling  of  satisfaction ;  the  passer-by  who  contemplates 
the  finished  work  recognises  it  as  the  result  of  a  comprehen- 
sive inspiration,  with  a  view  to  producing  a  certain  efiect ; 
there  Is  unity  in  the  whole,  because  there  is  an  exact  and  neces- 
sary correlation  between  aU  the  parts.  No  one  will  assert  that 
unity  is  the  work  of  chance.  Unity  is  the  combined  product  of 
parts.  Every  organic  body  is  a  luiity  because  its  various  organs 
are  combined  in  view  of  one  harmonious  pm-pose ;  and  it  should 
be  the  same  with  the  ensemble  of  an  architectural  design.  If  we 
remove  an  arclaitectural  member  from  the  structure  of  a  Greek 
temple  we  endanger  its  stability ;  if  we  take  a  stone  from  a 
mediEeval  edifice  we  compromise  its  durability.  We  cannot  say 
as  much  of  the  buildings  erected  in  the  present  day.  Does  it 
therefore  follow  that  we  must  adliere  to  the  principles  of  con- 
struction adopted  by  the  Greeks  or  by  the  builders  of  the  Middle 
Ages  ?  Certainly  not :  but  we  may  proceed  as  they  did  and 
profit  by  what  they  accomphshed. 

Taking  for  granted  that  an  architect  needs  but  an  inconsider- 
able stock-m-trade,  and  that  the  practice  of  his  ai't  is  a  very  easy 
thing,  certain  connoisseurs  have  since  the  epoch  of  the  Renais- 
sance invaded  his  domain,  and  have  taken  upon  themselves  to 
declaim  authoritatively  about  orders,  proportions,  and  symmetry; 
and  have  formulated  opinions,  citing  passages  from  Vitruvius  and 
PaUadio,  proceeding  to  inspect  architectural  monuments  as  one 

VOL.  11.  c 


34  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

might  the  pictures  in  an  album,  and  thereupon  setting  up  for 
arbiters  of  taste  in  matters  of  art.  At  the  present  day,  thanks 
to  tlie  inadequacy  of  our  educational  appliances,  these  connois- 
seurs have  almost  taken  the  place  of  masters ;  they  have  applied 
their  critical  dogmas  to  principles,  traditions,  and  practical  means ; 
and  have  soon  come  to  regard  their  caprices  as  a  measure  of 
progress.  This  one  rules  that  roofs  must  be  concealed;  a  second 
regards  a  building  as  ser\dng  no  purpose  but  to  look  at,  and 
insists  on  symmetrical  arrangements ;  a  third  declares  that  the 
buttresses  in  use  during  the  Middle  Ages  and  in  Roman  times 
to  counter-thrust  the  vaultmg  are  only  an  admission  of  weakness 
in  the  construction, — that  modern  ingenuity  ought  to  substitute 
novel  contrivances  for  these  apparently  inert  masses.  If  you 
question  these  self-sufficient  connoisseurs  as  to  the  means  they 
would  themselves  propose,  they  invariably  reply  that  with  the 
help  of  a  working  mason  or  some  English  gardener,  they  have 
built  a  chateau  or  a  mansion,  substantial  and  convenient,  where 
everytliing  is  wonderfully  contrived — a  very  fairy  palace.  Six 
months  afterwards  you  are  sent  for  as  an  architect  to  strengthen 
flooiing,  to  tie  cracking  walls,  rebuild  flues,  imderpin  foundations, 
replace  decayed  roof-timbers  and  dilapidated  roofing  in  this 
paragon  of  a  mansion.  Has  the  lesson  been  profitable  ?  No. 
A  fortnight  afterwards  the  connoisseur  whose  bhinders  you  have 
had  to  correct, — a  man  of  "  mfluence," — will  ofler  a  himdi-ed 
criticisms  on  a  design  submitted  to  his  inspection  :  there  he 
would  like  a  vaulted  ceUing  where  you  have  put  a  wooden  one ; 
here,  it  is  your  walls  that  are  too  thick ;  there,  he  finds  but- 
tresses that  scarcely  please  him ;  elsewhere,  openings  or  solid 
parts  are  indispensable,  and  so  on. 

Have  we  been  provided  by  an  earnest,  extensive,  and  critical 
course  of  teaching,  with  the  means  of  opposing  these  caprices  of 
the  arcliitectural  dilettante,  on  whom,  in  many  cases,  our  pro- 
fessional success  or  failure  is  dependent  ?  By  no  means.  Against 
these  impertinent  attacks  we  have  generally  no  other  weapon 
than  such  as  routine  furnishes.  While  the  evil  has  been  con- 
tinually increasing,  it  is  not  of  recent  origin,  for  Phihbert  Delorme 
called  attention  to  it  in  energetic  language,  and  since  his  time 
some  enlightened  minds  have  made  a  stand  against  the  despotism 
of  the  false  in  regard  to  buUding.  It  is  instructive  to  read  what 
was  said  in  1702  by  a  writer  who  took  a  deep  interest  in  archi- 
tecture, and  who  studied  buildings  in  a  spirit  of  impartial  criticism 
very  unusual  at  that  date.  In  his  Memoires  critiques  d'architec- 
tiire,  Frdmin,  treasurer  of  France,'  d  propos  of  the  construction 
of  several  of  the  Paris  churches,  thus  expresses  himself: — "You 

•  Mem.  crit.  iVarchil.  contenans  VkUe  de  la  vratje  H  de  la/ausse  architecture  (Paria,  1702), 
Lettre  vi. 


LECTURE  JI.  35 

will  see  In  the  carrying  out  of  the  Church  of  Notre  Dame  and 
that  of  the  Sainte  Chapelle,  two  edifices  built  in  accordance  with 
the  object,  the  subject,  and  the  place ;  while  in  Sainte-Eustache 
and  Saint-Sulpice  you  will  see  two  buildings  in  whose  construc- 
tion neither  reason,  nor  judgment,  nor  prudence  has  been 
exercised. 

"  In  Notre  Dame,  the  architect  who  originated  the  design 
first  conceived  his  general  idea,  and  then  enteiing  upon  each  of 
the  considerations  which  were  required  to  promote  the  object, 
he  reflected  on  them;  he  thought  that  this  church,  which,  as 
regarded  the  requirements  of  the  time  when  he  lived,  need  not 
be  very  spacious,  because  Paris  was  then  very  restricted  and 
small,  would,  however,  requii'e  to  become  so  at  some  future  time, 
if  the  hopes  entertained  should  be  fulfilled  ;  that  it  must  there- 
fore be  made  extensive  :  he  considered  that  as  it  was  designed 
for  a  cathedral,  it  should  have  spaces  and  arrangements  alto- 
gether peculiar,  because  there  is  a  difference  between  a  church 
of  this  kind  and  a  mere  parochial  one.     He  thought  that  if  he 
limited  his  ideas  to  the  mere  extent  of  his  site  he  would  not  give 
so  much  space  as  it  was  desirable  to  provide  to  contain  a  greater 
number  of  men ;  he  conceived  that  a  chui-ch  where  chanting  is 
almost  incessant  should  be  of  a  construction  that  woidd  shut  in 
and  prevent  the  dissipation  of  the  sound ;  he  knew  that  all  the 
arrangements  for  the  mass  were  such  as  to  enable  it  to  be  seen, 
and  that  accordingly,  fai'  from  concealing  or  obscuring  the  \'iew 
by  columns,  it  was  necessaiy  to  aid  and  favour  it.     What  then 
did  the  architect  do  ?     In  view  of  futiu'e  requirements  he  made 
a  spacious  interior  and  doubled  the  accommodation  by  galleries. 
With  a  view  to  promote  the  effect  of  harmony,  which  becomes 
more  full  and  melodious  when  it  is  reverberated,  he  lowered  the 
vaulting  of  the  aisles ;  with  a  view  to  give  more  hght,  by  lowering 
the  vaulting,  he  enlarged  the  vast  windows,  and  thereby  facilitated 
its  entrance.     That  the  Sacrifice  might  be  plainly  seen,  he  re- 
duced the  pillars  to  a  moderate  thickness,  and  made  them  roimd, 
so  as  not  to  impede  the  view  by  angles,  as  is  the  case  when  the 
pillars  are  square.     This  architect,  knowing  that  the  weight  of  a 
vault  which  is  buttressed  by  counter-tlirusts  never  bears  vertically 
on  the  pillars,  because  there  is  never  equality  of  action  in  the 
weight  of  the  vault  and  the  action  which  that  weight  produces 
when  it  tends  outwards, — he  makes  those  of  moderate  size  which 
support  the  double  \'uidt  of  the  aisles,  and  those  which  support 
the  great  vaults  a  little  larger :  he  at  the  same  time  gives  suit- 
able dimensions  to  both.     Here  we  see  an  intelligent  considera- 
tion of  the  object  and  of  the  subject,  and  a  clever  adaptation  to 
the  site.       This  may  be  called  good  architecture.      This  man 
builds  two  towera  ;  he  Ls  aware  that  with  the  fonn  which  he  gives 


36  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

them  their  superstructure  only  needs  supporting  by  good  angles — 
he  raises  them  on  piers  which,  forming  double  entrances  to  the 
aisles  of  the  chiu'ch,  appear  to  have  no  more  than  the  necessary 
thickness ;  so  that,  without  perceiving  their  size  in  relation  to 
the  interval  wliich  divides  them,  he  accords  them  a  proportion 
which  pleases  the  eye  :  thus,  in  everything,  mtelligence  and  good 
sense  are  manifest."  After  criticising,  not  without  reason,  the 
Church  of  Samte-Eustache,  and  concluding  that  its  architect  was 
only  "  a  very  bad  mason,"  Frdmin  passes  on  to  Saint-Sidpice. 
"This,"  says  he,  "is  another  variety  of  false  architecture,  but 
which,  taken  in  connection  with  the  former,  proves  that  the 
accumulation  or  assemblage  of  stones  does  not  constitute  build- 
ing, for  it  is  astonishing  to  see  to  tvhat  an  extent  our  architects 
distrust  themselves  ;  if,  as  at  the  Church  of  the  Petits  Peres,  they 
do  not  accumulate  ivhole  quarries  to  support  a  little  pedestal, 
they  tremble  lest  this  work  shoidd  fall  as  soon  as  it  leaves  their 
hands ;  so  great  and  so  general  is  this  prejudice,  that  the 
moment  you  propose  to  construct  some  piece  of  delicate  work,  you 
find  yourself  beset  and  cried  down  by  a  host  of  masons.  I  say, 
then,  that  Saint-Sulpice  presents  another  kind  of  false  construc- 
tion ;  first  in  the  general  conception,  secondly  in  the  carrying 
out  of  the  conception.  As  to  the  general  conception,  we  cannot 
say  what  it  is ;  if  the  architraves  stuck  up  against  the  vaults  had 
been  omitted,  the  building  would  have  had  scarcely  any  attrac- 
tions ;  the  cornices  that  crown  the  pilasters  of  the  lower  vaults 
are  features  whose  purpose  cannot  be  defined  .  .  .  ;  the  pilasters 
attached  to  the  square  masses  supporting  the  arches  are  needless ; 
a  pillar  nine  feet  square  is  ridiculous  in  a  church,  both  on  account 
of  its  shape,  since  its  corners  obstruct  the  view,  and  of  its  thick- 
ness, as  it  takes  up  too  much  space  and  ground,  and  consequently 
occupies  the  room  required  by  the  congregation.  .  .  .  Looking  at 
the  pdaster  against  the  pdlars,  I  fancy  to  myself  a  very  strong 
and  upright  man,  against  whose  body  a  post  was  placed  to  support 
his  chin.  I  wdl  not  take  the  trouble  to  go  through  all  the 
blunders  of  this  edifice.  I  am  ofiended  every  time  I  enter  it." 
Whde  preferring  the  construction  of  the  Church  of  Notre  Dame 
to  that  of  Saint-Sulpice,  Fremin  was  none  the  less  a  lover  of 
progress,  and  in  all  his  letters  he  continually  inveighs  against 
routine,  which  in  his  days  was  already  tending  to  tyrannise  over 
building  methods.  But  we  must  enter  upon  a  closer  considera- 
tion of  our  subject,  and  come  to  the  apphcation  of  principles.  I 
allow  that  in  certain  cases  we  must  try  to  do  without  abutments, 
whatever  their  form,  and  whether  plainly  expressed  or  disguised 
under  the  appearance  of  engaged  columns.  But  if  we  erect 
vaultings  of  masoniy  above  a  hall,  it  is  absolutely  necessary  to 
support  their  thrust,  if  we  would  not  see  the  vertical  walls  give 


LECTURE  XT. 


37 


— -r- — -»T : i J i — i i — — t- 

Fio.  13.— Example  of  Vaulting  without  Buttresses. 


38  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

out  and  the  vaulting  fall  in.     Let  us  then  try  to  find  by  what 
means  we  might  vault  with  masonry  an  mterior  of  65  feet  in 
the  clear,  on  walls  4  feet  6  inches  thick  at  theii-  widest  parts, 
and  without  those  external  buttresses  which  some  regard  as 
marks  of  weakness.     Let  figure  1 3  be  the  transverse  section  of 
this  hall ;   we   shall   build  with  hard  stone   the  basement  A  B, 
divided  into  bays  of  20  feet  from  centre  to  centre.     It  will  even 
be  easy  for  us  to  reduce  the  thickness  of  the  wall  between  the 
supports  to  2  feet  3  inches.     On  corbels  c  we  shall  place  brackets 
of  cast-iron  D,  held  by  iron  straps  and  keys  E,  on  the  exterior. 
On  these  brackets  we  shall  lay  bed-stones  F,  their  ends  being 
built  into  the  wall ;  then  the  springers  supporting  the  arches  G, 
shown  frontways  at  H.     On  these  arches  we  shall  fonn  a  gallery, 
K.      Setting   cast-iron    columns  i   slightly  in   advance    of  the 
spandrel  faces  of  the  arches  G,  and  from  the  spreading  capitals  of 
these  columns  to  the  pier  i,  we  place  two  stone  hntels  M,  the 
second  forming  the  springers  of  the  great  transverse  arches  n. 
We  shall  be  able  to  perforate  the  cheek  above  these  luitels,  as  seen 
at  o.     From  one  to  another  of  these  transverse  ai'ches  we  shall 
turn  the  barrel-arches  p  and  the  annular  vaults  Q.     To  enclose 
the  hall,  a  wall  of  a  foot  and  a  half  to  two  feet  pierced  with  wide 
openmgs  above  the  gallery  will  suffice.     If  we  form  a  roof  con- 
sisting of  plate-iron  principals  R,  bringing  their  weight  to  bear  a 
little  outside  the  upright  of  the  cast-iron  columns,  this  weight 
will  partly  neutralise  the  resultant  pressure  of  the  transverse 
arches.     Suppose  the  barrel-arches  p  turned  in  brick,  and  the 
annular  vaults  Q  in  pottery,  we  shall  have  a  resultant  pressure 
which  will  be  directed  almost  entirely  on  the  cast-iron  column  : 
and,    taking   into    account   imperfection    of   workmanship    and 
accidental  effects,  this  resultant  will  in  no  case  fall  beyond  the 
point  A.     Here,  then,  we  unite  the  conditions  of  stability  and 
space  by  the  combination  adopted ;  we  avoid  buttresses  and  a 
useless  bulk  of  material  entaihng  additional  expense. 

I  wish  it  to  be  understood  that  I  do  not  here  profess  to  offer 
an  architectm-al  model,  but  sunply  to  suggest  a  method  of  pro- 
cedure for  meetLQg  special  requirements  by  reverting  to  the 
principles  previously  explained  with  the  aid  of  the  experience 
acquired  by  our  predecessors  and  the  appliances  which  our  own 
age  affords  us.  If,  for  mstance,  we  buUd  the  basement  of  heavy 
and  durable  stone  ;  if,  for  the  Untels  M  only,  we  select  very  tough 
materials,  all  the  rest  of  the  building  might  be  of  freestone,  or 
of  solid  or  hollow  brick.  The  barrel-arches  P  and  the  annular 
vaults  Q  could  be  built,  the  first  with  very  slight  wooden  centring 
resting  in  the  cheeks,  the  second  with  ciu'ves  made  to  shift  on 
the  transverse  arches.  Only  for  the  great  transverse  arches 
would  framed  centres  be  requu-ed,  and  by  leaving  out  corbels 


LECTURE  XL  39 

at  s  as  rests  for  the  ends  of  the  tie-beams  of  the  centres,  a  prop 
would  suffice  for  theii'  suppoi-t  in  the  middle.  The  engraving, 
Plate  XIX.,  gives  an  interior  perspective  of  the  bays  of  this  hall, 
and  an  idea  of  its  general  appearance.  It  is  evident  that  this 
kind  of  architectm-e  woidd  lend  itself  to  painted  decoi-ation, 
whether  partial,  leaving  visible  the  dressed  stone-work,  or  com- 
plete. It  would  appear  that  it  can  only  be  by  sharpening  the 
intelligence  of  architects  that  the  art  could  be  dLrected  to  the 
production  of  works  appropriate  to  the  times,  and  consequently 
novel  in  aspect  and  economical  in  structure.  To  effect  this,  a 
rational,  intelhgent — I  might  even  say  scientific — construction 
should  serve  as  the  starting- pomt ;  and  the  ancients  should  be 
consulted  only  that  we  may  not  fall  short  of  that  which  they 
produced,  and  that  we  may  profit  by  then-  efforts. 

The  brick-maker's  art  has  been  greatly  improved  in  recent 
times,  why  then  should  we  not  avail  ourselves  in  our  public 
buildings  of  the  means  it  affords  ?  why  employ  stone  when  we 
might  with  greater  economy  make  use  of  a  material  which  offers 
so  many  advantages — facUity  in  transport  and  lifting,  lightness, 
perfect  adhesion  to  plastering  and  stuccos,  diyness  and  unhmited 
durability  ? 

Why  in  our  palaces  and  mansions  should  we  forego  the  use 
of  glazed  terra-cotta, — always  keeping  in  our  exteriors  to  stone 
faciiigs,  which  are  cold  and  cheerless  of  aspect,  especially  in  our 
climate  ?  By  the  judicious  use  of  faience  or  even  of  painted 
stucco  in  the  sheltered  parts,  we  could  effect  a  saving  ui  stone 
sufficient  to  compensate  for  the  extra  cost  occasioned  by  these 
coatings.  The  architects  of  the  Renaissance,  in  Italy,  and  even 
in  France,  did  not  hesitate  to  employ  such  appliances,  which  are 
at  once  decorative  and  economical ;  they  respected  stone  suffi- 
ciently to  prevent  them  from  lavisliing  it  uselessly.  I  am  quite 
aware  that  it  is  easier  to  design  a  front  on  paper  without  taking- 
account  of  these  various  means,  and  to  leave  to  a  clever  stone- 
cutter the  task  of  reproducing  the  design  in  the  material  he  has 
at  command,  i.e.  block  stone.  But  is  it  not  incumbent  on  the 
artist  himself  to  designate  the  use  of  the  various  materials, — 
to  select  them, — to  avoid  profusion  and  useless  expenditure  ? 
Even  when  builduig  only  with  block  stone,  a  thoughtful  ai-range- 
ment  of  the  beds  and  joints  can  effect  a  considerable  economy  in 
the  quantity  of  the  material  employed  and  in  the  labour.  Eveiy 
one  knows  that  blocks  of  freestone — those  most  frequently 
employed  for  building — come  out  of  the  quariy  of  various  heights 
in  bed ;  some  three  or  four  feet  in  bed,  others  not  more  than  a 
foot  and  a  half,  or  even  less.  What  course  is  therefore  adopted 
now  in  architects'  offices  ?  A  drawing — an  outward  form — is 
designed  before  ascertaining  the  heights  in  bed  of  the  stone 


40  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

that  will  be  employed.  This  outward  form  decided  upon — this 
representation  drawn — the  question  comes  as  to  the  kind  of  stone 
that  should  be  employed  in  building  the  edifice ;  then  this 
design  is  divided  horizontally  by  jomt  lines  almost  arbitrarily, 
80  as  not  to  be  too  much  at  variance  with  the  architectural 
features  adopted  (it  is  the  most  scrupidous  architects  who 
proceed  thus).  But  when  the  work  comes  to  be  executed,  very 
few  stones  coiTespond  exactly  to  the  heights  of  the  courses 
marked  in  the  design ;  blocks  too  high  in  bed  have  to  be  lowered, 
and  blocks  too  low  cast  aside.  All  this  evidently  costs  money. 
It  would  seem  much  more  rational  to  proceed  as  did  the  ancients 
who  are  commended  to  us  as  models,  and  as  did  the  mediaeval 
builders  whose  methods  are  rejected, — viz.,  before  drawing  the 
design,  to  ascertain  the  materials  with  which  it  can  be  rendered. 
Everybody  would  be  benefited  thereby,  and  architecture  would 
lose  nothing ;  on  the  contrary,  it  would  gain  by  such  a  course ; 
since  the  variety  in  height  and  quality  of  the  materials  would 
produce  a  variety  in  effect.  We  have  at  command  limestones 
— those  of  the  Jura  and  of  certam  beds  in  Burgundy,  for 
instance — that  might  with  impunity  be  set  on  edge  :  why  not 
make  use  of  them  in  that  way  ?  why  build  with  courses  sawn 
at  great  expense  of  labour  architectural  members  that  could  be 
formed  in  one  piece  ? 

It  would  therefore  be  desirable  for  the  architect,  before  pro- 
ceeding in  the  erection  of  a  building,  to  ascertain  the  quahties 
and  heights  of  stone  the  quarries  wiU  afford  him ;  and  it  must  be 
remarked  that  in  this  matter  he  should  not  rely  for  information 
on  the  builders,  who  are  too  much  inclined  to  follow  customary 
methods — to  do  to-day  as  they  did  yesterday, — but  shoiUd  take 
the  trouble  to  visit  the  quarries  and  get  an  idea  of  their  various 
beds.  That  done,  it  would  be  weU  for  him,  in  designing  his 
building,  to  subordinate  the  various  features  of  his  design  to  the 
heights  of  the  stone  that  will  be  brought  to  the  ground.  These 
are  elementary  principles,  which  should  be  taught  in  schools  of 
architecture,  when  we  reaUy  have  such  in  France. 

I  will  support  these  last  observations  by  an  example,  without 
reference,  be  it  imderstood,  to  any  particular  style  of  architec- 
ture,— for  our  concern  here  is  not  with  architectural  forms,  but 
structural  methods.  We  have,  Plate  XX.,  a  palace  front  to  build 
of  masonry,  consisting  of  a  basement,  a  vaulted  ground-floor, 
and  a  first  story  with  attics.  We  wish  to  have  a  gallery  or  wide 
balcony  on  the  first  floor.  We  build  the  basement  with  a  thick 
casing  of  large  weatherstones,  the  backing  of  the  masonry  being 
of  rubble-woi'k.  On  the  front  of  this  basement  we  erect  monohthic 
pillai^s,  the  building  behind  being,  with  the  exception  of  the  first 
course,  raised  with  rubble  and  brick.     On  these  pillars  we  put 


\hc:hit'3». 

(?— r 


I 


O 


D 


C 


\\.\r.()S\\:.\-\\, 


c 


d 


LECTURE  XI.  41 

lintels  of  hard  stone,  relieved  on  the  wall  side  by  corbels.  On 
these  lintels  we  bnild  arches  of  hanc  royal.  As  this  kind  of 
stone  furnishes  blocks  of  large  dimensions,  we  take  advantage  of 
it  to  get  very  high  springers  ;  next  we  form  the  arches  of  stones 
extradossed  and  of  moderate  thickness — sfaice  they  support  no 
weight — but  of  considerable  width  between  the  beds.  We  fill  in 
the  spandrels  between  the  arches  with  wallmg,  but  set  back  so 
as  to  facilitate  the  placing  of  faience  tiles.  On  the  wall  levelled 
up  to  the  top  of  the  arches  we  lay  the  cornice  course  of  hard 
stone,  forming  a  balcony.  The  fh-st  story  will  be  raised  only  on 
the  rubble-work  part  of  the  substructvu'e.  The  piers  between 
the  wmdows  will  consist  of  a  first  course  of  weatherstone  to 
counteract  the  efiect  of  the  splashing  of  the  rain  on  the  balcony ; 
then  courses  of  vergele  or  hanc  royal '  according  to  the  height  of 
the  blocks.  On  these  piers  we  shall  set  equal-sized  springers, 
only  over  the  reveals,  and  arches  also  occupying  only  the  thick- 
ness of  the  reveals  and  the  rebates  ;  the  remainder  will  be  built 
of  rubble  or  brick- work.  Mouldmgs  of  glazed  terra-cotta  will 
surround  the  springers  and  the  extradossed  arches,  and  will 
receive  faience  tiles  covering  the  rough  walling ;  we  shall 
likewise  level  up  with  a  layer  of  glazed  terra-cotta,  on  which 
will  rest  the  stone  corbels  that  support  this  cornice  receiving 
the  lead  gutters.  The  spaces  between  the  corbels  vdll  be  filled 
in  with  walling  covered  by  faience  tiles.  Then  will  come  the 
eaves- wall  carrying  the  roof  and  the  dormer-windows,  whose  stone 
construction  is  showti  in  our  engraving.  As  the  ground-floor 
arcade  fomis  abutment  we  shall  be  able  to  vault  this  story  with 
concrete  or  hollow  bricks.  The  walluig  behind  this  arcade  coidd 
be  coated  with  painted  stucco,  since  it  is  perfectly  sheltered. 
Thus,  inside,  we  shall  have  hewn  stone  only  in  the  piers  of  the 
first  story,  i.e.  in  the  part  which  should  be  wainscoted.  All 
the  rest  being  rough  waUing,  will  allow  of  bemg  coated  %vith 
stucco  or  plaster,  and  permit  the  apphcation  of  painting,  which 
never  endures  well  on  stone.  Supposing  the  building  to  be  con- 
structed entirely  of  hewn  stone,  we  shoidd  find  no  other  advan- 
tage but  that  of  increasing  the  expense  and  preventmg  the  use 
of  those  means  of  external  coloured  decoration  we  have  been 
pointing  out ;  and  we  should  have  interiors  less  healthy  and 
less  fitted  to  receive  painting. 

We  have  at  command  a  material  invaluable  as  an  auxiliary 
in  building,  especially  in  masoniy,— iron,  cast  and  wrought. 
The  ancients  hardly  ever  made  use  of  iron  in  their  masonry, 
except  for  cramps  or  dowels,  that  is  to  say,  in  very  small  pieces. 
The  great  mediaeval  bmlders  themselves,  although  they  had  some 
presentiment  of  the  advantages  oftered  by  the  employment  of 

•  Freestones  from  the  neighbourhood  of  Paris. —  Tr. 


42  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

iron,  and  used  it  intelligently,  had  not  this  material  at  command 
in  considerable  dimensions.  Having,  however,  adopted  the  system 
of  elastic  masomy,  iron  was  of  essential  sendee  to  them  in  many 
cases.  In  our  day  it  is  no  longer  possible  to  overlook  this  most 
efficient  element  of  construction,  which  modern  manufacture  sup- 
plies us  with  at  small  cost,  and  in  dimensions  formerly  unknown. 
It  is  desirable  therefore  to  consider  how  we  may  make  our  means 
of  construction  such  as  to  enable  us  to  avail  ourselves  of  the  use 
of  these  novel  materials.  But  while  iron  is  a  useful  apphance  in 
certain  cases,  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  in  connection  with 
masonry  it  is  also  a  very  active  disintegrating  agent.  By  oxida- 
tion, iron  not  only  swells  and  bursts  the  firmest  and  toughest 
materials,  but  it  also  loses  its  properties  ;  from  tough  it  becomes 
brittle,  and  passes  from  a  metallic  state  to  that  of  an  ore.  It  is 
therefore  necessary  to  j^lace  the  ii'on  under  such  conditions  that 
its  oxidation  shall  be  only  supei-ficial,  if  we  would  not  have  this 
metal  destroy,  within  a  century  or  less,  the  masonry  of  which  it 
furnLshes  the  smews,  and  lose  all  its  useful  properties.  These 
disadvantages  are  not  a  matter  of  much  concern  in  private 
dwellings, — in  houses  whose  duration  is  on  the  average  of  com- 
paratively limited  extent ;  but  they  become  a  serious  considera- 
tion in  pubhc  edifices,  built  to  last  for  centuries.  I  have  already 
mentioned  that  wrought  or  rolled  iron,  placed  inside  masonry 
where  lime  or  plaster-of- Paris  J^lay  an  important  pai't,  very  soon 
completely  perishes,  and  by  its  irresistible  expansion  bursts  the 
hardest  stones.  If  the  iron  is  detached,  if  it  is  merely  in  contact 
with  stones  that  are  but  slightly  porous,  it  takes  a  glaze,  and 
oxidises  only  at  the  surface.  Its  expansion  is  then  inappreciable. 
This  phenomenon  may  be  remarked  in  old  stanchions,  whose  let- 
in  parts  are  entu-ely  eaten  away  by  rust,  while  the  parts  exposed 
to  the  air  have  preserved  their  original  appearance.  We  have 
seen  built-in  iron  cramps  a  yard  from  the  outer  surface  of  the 
masonry  totally  destroyed  and  reduced  to  the  state  of  carbonate 
of  iron ;  while  in  the  same  building,  dowels  of  column  shafts 
only  six  inches  in  diameter  had  presei'ved  theh  metallic  character. 
Hence  the  deeper  iron  is  bedded  in  the  masonry,  the  more  it 
tends  to  corrode.  When  there  was  no  other  means  of  tymg 
except  by  cramps  let  into  a  course,  the  danger  here  pointed  out 
coidd  not  be  provided  against :  but  now  that  we  can  tie  with 
iron  bars  fifteen  or  twenty  feet  long,  or  even  more,  it  is  perfectly 
easy  to  sink  a  free  passage  for  them  in  which  they  will  no  longer 
be  in  iimnediate  contact  with  the  masomy.  An  interval  of  two 
or  three  eighths  of  an  inch  is  then  sufficient  to  prevent  the  efiects 
of  complete  oxidation.  In  all  buildmgs  intended  to  last,  the 
iron  employed  m  ties  should  be  regarded  as  straps  whose  ends 
alone  should  be  firmly  secured,  and  for  the  claws  or  holdfasts 


LECTURE  XL  43 

painting  must  be  regarded  as  a  very  insufficient  makesliift ;  they 
should  be  galvanised  with  zinc  or  copper,  and  be  let  in  with 
resinous  mastics.  But  it  is  always  preferable  to  place  the  hold- 
fasts outside,  exposed  to  the  air ;  and  there  is  no  reason  for 
objecting  to  this  method,  whUe  if  desu'cd  they  may  be  made  a 
decorative  feature.  No  sufficient  reason  can  be  given  for  our 
present  plan  of  adopting  longitudinal  and  transverse  ties  in 
constructions  built  after  the  Romian  manner  ;  that  is,  having 
walls  of  a  thickness  sufficient  to  present  any  dislocation.  The 
advantage  of  employuig  iron  as  sinews  in  masoniy  is  that  it 
enables  us  to  adopt  a  very  slight  system  of  structure,  kept 
in  equilibrium  by  ties :  a  proof  of  its  efficiency  being  pre- 
sented by  our  street  houses,  whose  walls,  only  1  foot  8  inches 
in  thickness,  are  raised  to  a  height  of  sixty  feet  or  upwards, 
support  roofs  and  floors,  and  yet  are  perfectly  stable  when  well 
built.  Why  should  we  exhibit  less  ingenuity  in  our  public 
than  in  our  private  buildings  ?  and  why,  while  increasing  the 
means  of  strength,  and  moreover  taking  every  precaution  requisite 
to  assure  their  duration,  do  we  not  in  the  construction  of  our 
public  buildings  largely  and  usefully  employ  the  resources  with 
which  modern  industry  furnishes  us  ?  Always  enslaved  by  the 
so-called  majestic  style  in  vogue  at  the  end  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  we  cannot  bring  ourselves  to  constiaict  buildings  answer- 
ing to  the  conditions  which  reason,  economy,  and  the  material 
resoiu'ces  of  our  time  would  demand,  but  sacrifice  all  the  advan- 
tages thus  offered  to  considerations  of  ordonnance  which  are  in 
fact  regarded  as  important  only  by  the  Acaddmie  des  Beaux- 
Arts,  and  do  not  in  the  least  interest  the  pubhc  which  pays, 
and  whose  wonder  is  excited  at  the  continual  accumulation  of 
enormous  masses  of  stone,  that  frequently  produce  only  a  very 
poor  result,  both  as  regards  the  requu-ements  and  the  efiect.  In 
construction  we  are  as  it  were  attemptmg  to  ride  t\^'o  horses, — 
the  one  which  is  advancing  and  the  other  obstinately  holding 
back ;  and  while  in  private  imdertakings  every  endeavoiu-  is 
being  made  to  discover  appliances  of  an  unceasingly  practical, 
economical,  and  truthful  character,  monumental  art  appears  to 
take  no  heed  of  them,  but  to  be  desirous  of  maintaining  methods 
which  are  no  longer  in  harmony  either  with  the  reqiui-ements 
or  the  spirit  of  the  age. 

While  wrought-iron  is  very  useful  in  masonry  when  suitably 
employed,  cast-iron  may  serve  numerous  purposes.  Cast-u-on 
notoriously  possesses  great  rigidity ;  it  is  extremely  durable,  for 
it  is  less  liable  to  decay  than  wrought-u-on  ;  and  when  exposed 
to  the  air,  as  in  supports,  and  when  complicated  joints  and  causes 
of  fracture  are  avoided,  it  may  be  regarded  as  unassailable  by 
time.     But  it  is  evident  that,  in  employing  this  material,  forms 


44  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

of  a  suitable  character  should  be  given  to  it,  and  tliat  it  would 
be  absurd  to  simulate  in  cast-iron,  columns  {e.g.)  of  a  diameter 
proper  to  stone  supports.  Hitherto  we  have  not  seen  cast- 
iron  supports  for  stone-work  except  in  very  small  buildings.^ 
Grand  results  might,  nevertheless,  be  obtained  by  so  employing 
it,  on  condition  of  adopting  the  equilibrated  structure  success- 
fully carried  out  in  our  country  by  the  mediseval  architects.  In 
fact,  while  iron  serves  scarcely  any  pui-pose  in  monvimental 
masonry,  such  as  we  now  conceive  it,  and  which  is  based  on  the 
principle  of  massive  and  concrete  structure,  it  would  find  a 
rational  and  useful  function  in  equilibrated  masonry,  by  employ- 
ing cast-iron  for  rigid  supports  or  wrought-iron  for  ties.  With 
these  appliances  we  miglit  erect  vaulting  in  masonry  on  very 
slender  supports, — a  thing  hardly  ever  done.  Vaulting  is  fre- 
quently formed  of  mortar  pugging  on  iron  framework  ;  but  this 
somewhat  barbarous  mixed  method  is  expensive,  and  does  not 
seem  to  be  very  dvu-able ;  for,  when  iron  has  to  be  used  simul- 
taneously with  masoniy,  it  can  only  be  on  the  condition  of  allow- 
ing these  two  materials  to  be  independent  of  each  other.  More- 
over, u-on  is  liable  to  variations  accordmg  to  temperature ;  in  warm 
weather  it  stretches,  in  cold  it  contracts ;  when  buried  in  the 
puggmg,  it  occasions  in  the  latter,  which  is  an  melastic  mass,  con- 
tinual movements,  and  causes  cracks.  If,  on  the  contrary,  with 
iron  employed  under  conditions  of  liberty,  we  adopted  a  system 
of  masonry  vaulting  having  a  certain  degree  of  elasticity,  there 
would  be  no  fear  of  dislocations.  Vaults  carried  on  extradossed 
arches,  independent  of  the  filling — such,  for  instance,  as  those 
adopted  during  part  of  the  Middle  Ages, — have  the  advantage 
of  yielding  to  considerable  movement  without  dislocation  and 
without  losing  any  of  their  strength.  Tliis  system  of  vaulting 
permits  every  kind  of  combination,  and  may  be  used  for  covering 
the  largest  spaces ;  why,  then,  not  adopt  it  ?  What  resources 
would  it  not  supply  us  with,  using  u'on  for  supports  and  as  a 
means  of  bracing  oblique  thrusts  ? 

Observe  that  we  only  erect  buildings  that  are  entirely  of 
iron,  such  as  the  haUes  centrales  of  Paris,  and  some  great  railway 
stations,  and  simultaneously  with  these  buUdings,  wliich  though 
well  designed  are  after  all  only  sheds,  we  build  citadels  of  stone 
■ — but  as  regards  the  mixed  method,  consisting  in  a  simultaneous 
employment  of  masonry  and  iron  m  the  same  building,  it  has 
hitherto  been  attempted  only  in  a  timid  way,  and,  it  must  be 
confessed,  with  unsatisfactory  results.  At  the  same  time,  it 
must  be  admitted  that  a  building  erected  entirely  of  masonry, 
that  is,  with  slight  stone  or  brick-work  vaulting,  and  walls  of 

^  Buildings  thus  designed,  of  small  dimensions,  the  products  of  our  younger  arcliitects, 
nii£;bt  however  be  cited. 


LECTURE  XL  45 

siifficlent  thickness  to  serve  as  a  protection  against  damp  or 
extreme  heat,  affords,  in  many  cases,  advantages  which  nothing 
can  compensate.  But  is  there  nothing  intermediate  between  a 
vaulted  block  of  stone,  like  the  Madeleme,  and  a  railway  station  ? 
Are  we  condemned  to  have  for  our  public  buildmgs  only  hypogtea 
or  sheds  ?  and  for  our  palaces  is  there  no  medium  between  casinos 
of  trumpery  iron-work,  lath,  and  plaster,  and  Versailles  or  the 
Lou\Te  ?  Obsen^e  again,  that  in  times  when  meetings  are 
becoming  so  large  that  no  hall  is  capacious  enough  to  hold  them, 
we  have  not  succeeded  in  building  a  single  hall  in  om*  pubhc 
buildings  or  palaces  of  really  grand  proportions,  in  which  a  crowd 
may  be  at  ease,  breathe  comfortably,  and  come  in  and  go  out 
freely ;  so  that,  m  fact,  we  are  stQl  compelled  to  have  recourse 
to  the  great  buildings  of  the  Middle  Ages  when  we  have  to  find 
room  for  a  multitude.  Our  concert-rooms  are  narrow  and  low, 
and  are  encumbered  with  obstructive  architectural  features. 
They  are  badly  lighted  by  day,  and  the  artificial  light  makes 
them  stifling.  With  otur  wealth  and  efficient  resources  we  obtain 
mean  results,  as  if  we  no  longer  had  the  ability  to  cover  vast 
spaces  otherwise  than  with  slight  iron  and  deal  constrviction. 
Masonry  has  grown  so  timid  that  it  no  longer  ventures  to  cover 
spaces  twenty  or  thii-ty  yards  broad  by  means  of  veritable  vault- 
ing. It  is  in  our  time  incapable  of  doing  more  than  heaping 
stones  one  on  the  other,  and  if  it  does  not  pile  them  in  great 
masses,  the  wall  threatens  to  fall  even  before  it  is  finished,  and 
it  has  to  be  stayed.  The  truth  is  that  the  art  of  building  is  no 
longer  taught  among  us  ;  not  merely  is  there  no  instraction  pro- 
portioned to  our  resources  and  requu-ements,  but  there  is  abso- 
lutely none.  The  architect  finds  himself  engaged  in  building 
before  he  has  gained  the  sHghtest  acquamtance  with  practical 
construction  :  if  he  acquires  experience,  it  is  at  his  own  or  his 
chent's  expense,  and  every  architect  is  obliged  to  pursue  a  course 
of  study  in  anima  vili.  In  domestic  buildings  clever  and  experi- 
enced builders  usually  make  up  for  the  lack  of  practical  know- 
ledge, and  these  constructions  being  veiy  simdar,  provided  the 
architect  has  some  Uttle  tact,  observation,  and  intelligence,  he 
soon  makes  himself  acquainted  with  the  methods  in  vogue.  But 
in  pubUc  buildings  it  is  otherwise.  There  it  is  necessary  for  the 
architect  to  take  the  initiative  ;  he  must  know  thoroughly  what 
he  desires  to  do  and  how  he  wishes  to  do  it ;  at  every  step  he 
encoiuiters  a  difficidty.  Feeling  the  weight  of  this  responsibility, 
he  inclines  towards  the  methods  in  previous  use  ;  in  case  of  doubt 
he  prefers  to  eiT  on  the  side  of  excess  of  strength  :  not  dai-ing  to 
adopt  bold  measures,  which,  m  his  case,  would  be  acts  of  temerity, 
he  hides  his  inexperience  behind  what  he  deems  rvdes  of  art,  but 
which  are  often  only  those  of  routine.     It  must  be  remembered. 


46  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

moreover,  that  in  any  case  bold  measures  are  only  permissible  to 
those  who  have  acquired  a  thorough  knowledge  of  their  subject : 
the  contempt  which,  smce  the  seventeenth  century,  architects 
have  professed  for  the  practical  knowledge  possessed  by  the 
great  builders  who  Hved  before  that  period,  and  their  altogether 
superficial  manner  of  studying  the  works  of  Classical  Antiquity, 
have  gradually  contracted  the  domain  in  which  they  are  able  to 
move.  Without  determinate  methods,  voluntarily  ignorant  of 
the  pliant  and  fertile  principles  of  the  building  art  durmg  the 
Middle  Ages,  and  imbued  with  prejudices,  they  have  ceased  to 
be  the  real  masters  of  the  work.  They  have  ceased  to  aim  at 
anything  more  than  the  reproduction  of  forms  which  are  becom- 
ing more  and  more  debased,  because  they  are  not  renewing  their 
vitaUty  by  being  referred  to  the  true  principles  of  construction  : 
and  if  things  continue  thus  a  Httle  longer,  architects  will  be 
reduced  to  the  condition  of  mere  decorative  designers. 

It  is  chiefly  in  the  art  of  masonry  that  the  architect  has  to 
regain  that  dnecting  influence  wliich  he  has  lost,  and  those 
practical  habits  of  procedure  which  alone  are  fertile  in  results. 
The  manner  in  which  he  arranges  the  woi-ked  stone  in  masonry 
is  either  productive  of  a  considerable  saving  or  of  useless  expense. 
It  would  seem  to  be  the  province  of  the  architect  himself  to  settle 
the  dimensions  of  the  materials  for  the  mason- builder,  whereas 
this  is  habitually  left  to  the  builders.  And  these  have  no 
interest  in  saving  expense,  whether  of  material  or  labour.  Very 
few  builders  ever  trouble  themselves  about  these  questions. 
According  to  the  mode  of  measuring  work  generally  adopted  in 
France,  but  more  particularly  in  Paris,  the  dressed  work  is  paid 
for,  not  according  to  the  actual  quantity,  but  according  to  that 
contained  by  the  block  before  the  sinkings  ;  moreover,  the  sink- 
.  ing,  wliich  represents  the  stone  cut  away,  is  charged  for  as  extra 
labour.  It  is  therefore  to  the  interest  of  the  mason-builder  to 
increase  the  occasion  for  smkings.  It  is  the  architect's  business 
to  avoid  them,  if  he  has  any  concern  to  build  economically  ;  it  is 
for  him,  therefore,  to  mark  the  jointing,  and  to  give  the  dimen- 
sions of  the  materials  to  the  mason-builder.  But  if  this  is 
to  be  the  case,  must  not  the  architecture  adopted — the  form 
— lend  itself  to  such  economy?  Here  we  have  already  the 
elements  of  a  reform  in  the  art  of  building  in  stone.  We  shall 
have  occasion  to  return  to  the  question  of  economy  and  of  wise 
direction  of  the  works. 

The  rapid  and  easy  escape  of  the  rain-water  is  one  of  those 
problems  which  must  be  encountered  in  every  building,  and 
which  is  generally  resolved  in  a  very  imperfect  manner.  The 
mode  Tncijestiieux  does  not  take  heed  of  these  necessities ;  yet 
it   rains  in  France,   and  it  would  be  in  every  case  worthy  of 


LECTURE  XL  47 

consideration  how  to  provide  tlie  simplest  means  of  preserving 
buildings  from  the  inconveniences  thence  resulting.  The  Greeks, 
who  erected  scarcely  any  but  buildings  of  small  dimensions,  and 
covered  with  roofs  of  double  slopes,  got  I'id  of  the  rain-water  by 
issues  in  the  gutter  crowning  the  cornice  drip :  the  incon- 
siderable height  of  their  buildings  obviated  the  necessity  of 
dowm-spouts ;  the  water  fell  from  the  open  mouths  of  the 
gutter  direct  on  the  groimd.  The  Romans,  who  erected  very 
large  buildings,  often  covered  by  very  comphcated  roofs,  adopted 
vertical  pipes  passing  down  through  the  walls  into  drains. 
Their  style  of  architectiu-e  favoured  the  employment  of  this 
system,  the  concrete  masonry,  very  thick  in  certain  parts,  and 
consisting  of  excellent  rubble-work,  being  quite  impervious. 
When  they  adopted  a  mode  of  building  analogous  to  that  of  the 
Greeks,  as  in  the  temples  and  basilicas,  they  threw  oW  the  rain- 
water fi-om  the  gTitters  on  to  the  gromid  by  gargoyles.  The 
great  builders  of  the  Middle  Ages  could  not  think  of  perforating 
the  very  narrow  walls  of  their  buildings  with  down-pipes  ;  they 
therefore  adopted  an  opposite  system ;  they  led  off"  the  rain- 
water from  the  gutters  by  open  channels  down  to  the  parts 
nearest  the  gi'ound.  There  they  adopted  the  gargoyles — no 
longer  short,  like  those  used  by  the  ancients,  but  projecting, 
so  as  to  tlu'ow  off  the  falhng  water  as  far  from  the  walls  as 
possible.  In  many  cases  they  even  employed  down-pipes  of 
metal  (lead)  so  as  to  obviate  the  splashing  of  the  rain-water 
against  the  lower  parts  of  the  building.  But  they  always 
thought  of  the  means  of  discharge,  and  arranged  their  buildings 
with  a  -view  to  it.  Far  from  confining  the  water,  they  conducted 
it  outside,  and  with  characteristic  genius  made  the  appliances 
for  satisfying  this  requirement  decorative  features.  In  Gothic 
edifices  the  carrying  off  of  the  rain-water  determines  certain 
arrangements  which  dictate  the  exterior  of  the  stn:cture. 
Except  in  rare  cases,  these  means  for  the  escape  of  the  water  are 
apparent,  easy  to  insjject,  to  keep  in  repair,  and  even  to  replace  ; 
they  take  the  shortest  way,  and,  passing  over  the  sm-faces,  they 
cannot  endanger  the  dm-ability  of  the  structure  itself  In  the 
present  day  municipal  regulations  prohibit  the  discharge  of 
water  by  gargoyles  into  the  street.  It  must  be  carried  down  to 
the  groimd,  and  even  beneath  it  into  drains.  This  is  certainly  a 
necessaiy  prohibition,  but  oiu-  public  buildings  ought  to  be  so 
contrived  that  the  escape  of  the  rain-water  may  not  take  place, 
so  to  speak,  clandestinely.  To  carry  down  as  an  after-thought 
cast-iron  pipes  against  fronts,  through  string-courses  and  cornices, 
is  a  barbarous  procedure,  and  one  that  denotes  a  complete  absence 
of  forethought  on  the  part  of  the  builder ;  to  carry  them  down 
tlirough  the  thickness  of  the  masonry  is  very  dangerous,  and 


48  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

sooner  or  later  causes  dilapidations  which  cannot  be  perceived 
untU  all  the  mischief  possible  is  done.  How,  in  fact,  can  we  be 
aware  of  the  burstbig  of  a  pipe  caused  by  frost  or  settlement,  if 
this  pipe  is  completely  bui-ied  in  the  masonry  ?  It  is  only  when 
the  wall  is  saturated  with  moisture  that  the  cause  of  the  mischief 
can  be  ascertained,  and  it  is  then  too  late  to  obviate  it.  If  the 
building  is  suiEciently  massive  to  allow  of  spacious  vertical 
shafts  being  left  in  the  thickness  of  the  walls,  adapted  to  receive 
down-pipes  which  could  be  easUy  inspected  and  replaced  at  need, 
all  difficulty  would  be  obviated,  and  we  could  dispense  with 
external  down-pipes  on  the  fronts  ;  but  such  cases  are  rare,  and 
there  are  but  few,  even  among  public  buildings,  where  the 
room  could  be  thus  afforded.  In  most  cases,  therefore,  the  rain- 
water pipes  must  be  put  on  the  outside.  Then  why  not  frankly 
prepare  a  place  for  them  ?  Why  afterwards  cut  through  cornices, 
string-courses,  and  plinths  to  make  a  place  for  these  pipes, 
which  then  present  the  appearance  of  an  after-thought  and 
break  all  the  hues  of  a  design  wliich  was  not  arranged  to  receive 
them  ? 

The  extent  to  which  the  absence  of  forethought  on  the  pai't 
of  architects  is  carried  is  incredible  to  those  who  have  not 
observed  it.  For  instance,  in  a  public  building  erected  not 
long  ago,  the  gutters  pass  through  the  attics,  and  form  in 
each  room,  under  the  windows,  a  little  trough  covered  with  a 
board,  and  where  water  may  be  drawn  any  rainy  day ;  and  the 
down-pipes  carried  through  the  thickness  of  the  walls,  pour 
torrents  of  water  into  the  rooms  during  a.  thaw ;  and  all  this  for 
the  sake  of  not  interfering  with  the  lines  of  a  certain  classical 
form  of  architectm^e.  Generally,  when  we  thoroughly  examine 
these  monumental  facades,  which  seem  to  be  built  solely  for 
show,  we  discover  much  poverty  beneath  this  useless  luxury  of 
stone.  Those  who  live  beliind  their  costly  walls  are  soon  made 
aware  of  it.  Here  you  have  gutters  passing  under  your  feet ; 
there  down -pipes  which  periodically  flood  you,  and  deafen  you 
with  their  rush  of  water  on  rainy  days.  Elsewhere  you  have 
wmdows  which  cannot  be  reached  without  a  ladder ;  rooms  aU 
but  absolutely  dai-k,  or  receiving  their  hght  near  the  floor  ; 
corridors  which  are  never  ventilated,  and  where  you  must  light 
lamps  in  the  middle  of  the  day ;  enormous  windows  for  small 
rooms  ;  embrasures  wliich  hinder  any  direct  hght ;  accommoda- 
tion narrow  and  insufficient  side  by  side  with  considerable  spaces 
wasted, — disproportionate  arrangements  which  seem  in  fact  con- 
trived to  satisfy  the  needs  of  beings  of  a  diSerent  race;  perpetual 
sacrifices  to  external  show — to  monumental  exigencies  as  costly 
as  they  are  useless.  Having  these  strange  abuses  of  a  mis- 
directed art  constantly  in  view,  it  is  especially  desirable  to  chng 


LECTURE  XL  49 

to  true  principles  of  construction,  and  to  endeavour  to  practise 
them  with  more  rigorous  scrupulosity  than  ever. 

There  is  another  cause  of  expense  in  our  monumental  build- 
ings, about  which  our  architects  do  not  concern  themselves, — 
viz.,  scaflbldmg.  A  somewhat  careful  examination  of  the  largest 
edifices  erected  by  the  Romans  will  show  us  how  careful  were 
the  ancient  builders  to  adopt  the  least  expensive  plans  of  scaffold- 
ing. Whether  they  employed  concrete  walling  cased  with  brick 
or  chopped  stone,  or  built  with  hewn  stone,  they  always  left 
putlog-holes  in  the  walls,  and  contrived  projections  to  receive 
the  scaffold  timbers.  These  holes  were  stopped  at  the  dressing 
down  with  stucco  and  other  coverings,  and  the  projections  were 
cut  off.  Thus  the  scaffolding  necessary  for  the  use  of  the  masons 
and  the  placing  of  materials  was  raised  at  the  same  time  as  the 
building,  and  was  kept  up  by  it.  Our  largest  mediseval  build- 
ings were  thus  erected :  there  may  still  be  seen,  on  the  front 
of  the  Cathedral  of  Paris,  for  instance,  the  putlog-holes  which 
served  to  hold  very  slight  scafiblding,  whatever  its  height  might 
be.  Besides  these  holes,  which  it  is  so  easy  to  stop  on  cleaning 
down,  projections  may  be  contrived  for  receiving  struts  or 
plates.  The  excess  of  stone  thus  requii-ed  is  nothing  compared 
with  the  cost  occasioned  by  a  scaffolding  right  from  the  bottom, 
independent  of  the  building, — a  kind  of  temporary  wooden  struc- 
ture erected  in  front  of  the  pennanent  one  of  stone.  There  is  no 
fagade,  however  high  or  wide,  which  cannot  be  erected  with  a  few 
hoisting  stages  and  slight  scafibldmgs  fastened  to  the  biulding 
itself,  and  rising  with  it.  Even  if  troUy  ways  are  employed  for 
moving  materials,  these  might  be  easily  formed  on  bridges  con- 
necting the  hoisting  stages  by  very  economical  means,  such  as 
inverted  iron  tie-bar  trusses,  without  having  recourse  to  those 
veritable  monuments  in  wood  which  are  ^srofitable  only  to  the 
timber-dealers.  What  we  say  here  respecting  scaffoldings  is 
still  more  apphcable  to  centermg.  The  Komans  in  making  their 
great  vaultings  scarcely  employed  any  but  unpropped  centres — 
that  is  to  say,  only  supported  by  projections  left  on  the  springers. 
Again,  these  centres  were  used  only  for  the  arches ;  the  soffits 
were  tiu'ned  on  lagging  very  simply  contrived. 

The  mediseval  vaulting  was  like^^^se  turned  by  very  inexpen- 
sive means,  and  with  the  use  of  a  small  amount  of  timber.  We 
shall  have  occasion  to  speak  of  these  methods  of  scaffolding  and 
centering  when  we  come  to  treat  of  timber-work.  But  here  we 
confine  oui-selves  to  showing  that  the  architect,  by  being  the  real 
director  of  the  works,  and  by  ha.\-ing  a  practical  acquaintance 
with  all  the  branches  of  industiy  he  employs,  may  largely  obviate 
expense  and  obtain  a  much  more  satisfactoiy  result  than  he  now 
does.     The  enormous  cost  of  our  public  bviildings, — a  cost  out  of 

VOL.  II.  D 


50  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

proportion  with  the  results, —  proves  this  point  in  particular — 
that  the  architects  do  not  sufficiently  consider  the  practical  side 
of  their  art, — that  they  habitually  put  themselves  at  the  mercy 
of  the  builders,  who  have  of  course  no  mterest  in  economising 
material  or  labour.  But  where,  in  fact,  should  architects  have 
become  acquainted  with  these  practical  means,  as  hitherto  they 
have  not  been  taught  them  m  the  only  architectural  school  that 
exists  in  France  ?  And  who  is  to  be  blamed  if,  when  they  come 
to  practise  their  art,  they  bring  with  them,  as  their  only  stock-in- 
trade,  many  prejudices,  a  very  msufficient  quota  of  knowledge, 
and  sketches  capriciously  made,  without  criticism  or  selection. 


LECTURE    XII. 

THE     CONSTRUCTION    OF    BUILDINGS. 


Masonry  {continued). 

METHODS  OF  EXECUTION — SIMULTANEOUS  EMPLOYJIENT  OF  STONE, 
BKICK,  AND  IKON — ECONOMY  IN  THE  OUTLAY'. 

NO  coimtiy  in  Europe  offers  so  great  a  variety  of  materials 
adapted  for  building  as  France.  From  granite  to  tufa, 
nearly  eveiy  natural  substance  that  can  be  employed  in  masonry 
is  to  be  found.  Hence  it  might  be  supposed  that  each  geological 
zone  would  possess  a  method  of  building  appropriate  to  the 
material  furnished  by  the  soil,  and  therefore  characteristic  archi- 
tectui-al  forms.  Such  is,  however,  by  no  means  the  case ;  the 
buildings  erected  at  Limoges — a  gi-anite  country — resemble,  in 
eveiy  respect,  those  which  are  built  at  Tours,  where  tufa  prevails. 
Designs  centralised  in  Paris,  at  the  "  Conseil  des  Batiments " 
Civils,  are  forwarded  to  the  prefectures  without  any  comment 
on  the  more  or  less  judicious  employment  of  the  local  materials. 
These. are  details  not  thought  worth  consideration.  In  Paris, 
thirty  years  ago,  no  stone  was  used  except  that  of  the  plaui  of 
Montrouge  and  the  Oise  basin.  The  Jura  and  Burgundy  now 
supply  us  -nith  calcareous  materials  of  considerable  streno-th,  in 
large  blocks,  and  which  may,  with  impunity,  be  set  edge-bedded. 
We  obtain  sound  tough  limestones  of  excellent  quality  from 
Poitou,  sandstones  from  the  Vosges,  and  "  vergeles "  from  the 
Oise.  Have  we  taken  advantage  of  these  novel  importations  to 
give  our  architecture  forms  in  harmony  with  the  special  qualities 
of  these  materials  ?  No !  We  have  been  content  to  substitute  the 
weatherstones  of  Burgimdy  for  the  "roche"  de  Bagneux,  wliile 
retaining  the  same  forms  and  the  same  methods  of  construction. 
The  cost  of  building  is  increased,  and  that  is  the  only  i-esult. 
If,  perchance,  a  few  monoliths  have  been  used  in  lieu  of  super- 
posed courses,  they  have  been  regarded  as  a  decoration — a  feature 
of  luxuiy ;  there  has  been  no  endeavour  to  turn  these  novel 


62  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

elements  to  account,  whether  to  reahse  a  saving  in  the  expense, 
to  obtain  new  effects,  or  useful  results. 

There  are  nevertheless  remaining  numerous  edifices  of  Classic 
and  Mediaeval  times,  in  which  the  nature  of  the  materials  em- 
ployed afforded  the  architects  both  decorative  and  useful 
elements.  To  obtain  similar  results  nothing  more  is  required 
than  to  contravene  certain  usages  in  vogue  among  the  contractors 
who  profit  by  them,  and  who  have  no  difficulty  in  maintaining 
them  in  opposition  to  architects  little  prepared  by  the  education 
they  have  received  for  these  contentions  with  the  building  trades. 

The  improvements  in  machinery,  and  in  the  rapidity  of  exe- 
cution, should  also  have  modified  the  system  of  construction,  and 
have  lessened  instead  of  increased  the  expense  of  building ;  yet 
never  comparatively  has  building  been  so  expensive  as  it  is  now. 

The  relative  values  of  material  and  labour  have  considerably 
changed  since  the  beginning  of  this  century :  it  would  be  wise 
to  take  these  changes  into  account.  The  more  extensive  and 
powerful  appliances  for  extracting  them,  and  the  greater  facility 
of  transport,  enable  us  to  obtain  materials  in  greater  abundance 
and  in  better  condition  for  use ;  on  the  other  hand,  the  price  of 
labour  has  been  constantly  increasing.  It  is  in  the  working 
therefore  that  economy  should  begin,  and  hence  it  is  advisable 
to  employ  materials  as  far  as  possible  in  the  form  in  which 
we  receive  them,  subjecting  them  only  to  inconsiderable  trans- 
formations. When  blocks  of  weatherstone,  cvibing  upwards  of 
two  yards,  can  be  sent  to  the  building  without  augmentation 
of  the  price  per  foot,  to  divide  such  blocks  into  four  with  the 
sand-saw  adds  considerably  to  the  price.  Admitting  that  the 
addition  to  the  cost  does  not  appear  in  the  schedule  of  prices,  it 
is  none  the  less  certain  that  it  must  really  have  been  taken  into 
account,  and  that  as  things  now  are — whether  the  architect 
endeavours  to  economise  the  working  or  whether  he  does  not — 
there  is  no  economy  in  the  cost  of  material.  Thus  vicious 
methods  occasion  indifference  on  the  part  of  the  architects. 
Fmding  no  advantage  in  opposing  them,  they  submit,  and 
despite  all  the  efforts  of  the  constructor,  mason's  work  remains 
exorbitantly  expensive.  The  fact  is,  that  architects  do  not 
regulate  the  schedule  of  prices  according  to  the  nature  of  the 
work  to  be  done,  but  are  obliged  to  accept  the  schedide  fixed 
by  persons  who  are  not  practically  famUiar  with  construction ; 
and  hence  their  desire  for  reform,  supposing  they  display  any, 
is  checked  by  customary  rules  to  which  they  must  yield.  We 
find  ourselves  here  in  a  vicious  circle,  so  to  speak.  If  architects 
were  generally  cajtable  and  skilful  builders,  they  wovdd  di'aw  up 
reasonable  schedules  of  prices,  and  effect  a  considerable  saving  ; 
for  they  would  make  the  prices  conform  to  the  methods  they 
adopted  ;  if  the  schedules  of  prices  were  more  in  accordance  with 


LECTURE  XII.  53 

the  various  methods  of  building,  architects  would  find  an  oppor- 
tunity of  efFectmg  a  sa^dng  that  is  out  of  the  question  under 
present  cu'cumstances.  Intent,  however,  on  continuing  forms 
of  art  which  are  in  hannony  neither  with  our  materials  nor  our 
present  methods  of  using  them,  architects  have  failed  to  acquire 
the  authority  and  experience  which  alone  would  enable  them  to 
influence  the  estimates.  It  would  even  apjjear  that  the  opmion 
of  the  master  of  the  works  in  these  matters  is  daily  becoming 
of  less  weight ;  and  if  things  continue  thus,  the  architect  will 
cease  to  be  anything  but  a  desig-ner, — an  arranger  of  outward 
forms,  havmg  no  direct  influence  in  the  carrying  out  of  the 
work.  The  evil  would  not  be  so  serious  if  arcliitectural  art  did 
not  lose  by  this  compromise  ;  but  we  must  not  deceive  ourselves  ; 
architecture  ceases  to  be  an  art  when  the  design  and  the  execu- 
tion are  separated. 

It  must  be  acknowledged  that  the  strangest  misconceptions 
on  the  subject  have  taken  possession  of  the  public.  It  is  gener- 
ally imagined  that  to  get  a  beautiful  and  substantial  building, 
it  is  sufficient  to  procure  designs  from  an  architect  of  repute, 
and  to  allow  his  drawings  to  be  carried  out  with  the  aid  of  any 
mason  that  may  chance  to  be  picked  up.  Some  administrative 
bodies  have  even  attempted  to  systematise  this  procedure ;  the 
consequences  of  such  a  course  are  deplorable,  not  only  from  an 
artistic,  but  from  an  economical  point  of  \ie\Y. 

If,  therefore,  the  artists  of  the  present  day  do  not  wish  to 
see  the  architect's  profession  sink  into  insignificance,  and,  wliich 
is  much  worse,  their  art  itself  annihilated,  they  must  absolutely 
set  themselves  to  hinder  these  tendencies.  How  can  they  do 
so  ?  By  becoming  skilful  builders,  ready  to  profit  by  all  the 
resoiu'ces  afforded  by  our  social  condition,  by  seeking  methods 
that  shall  be  right,  judicious,  and  economical,  and  by  departing 
to  some  extent  from  the  injurious  modes  of  procedure  which 
prevail  in  all  our  building-yards,  in  favom*  of  new  ones  dictated 
by  reason  ;  as  also  by  preserving  that  independence  of  character 
without  which  the  artist  is  only  a  valet  of  more  or  less  ability, 
paid  to  conform  to  the  caprices  of  his  master. 

Previous  ages  have  had  their  several  systems  of  construction  ; 
our  age  alone  possesses  railways,  steam-engines,  and  apphances  of 
superior  force  and  strength.  For  what  reason  then  do  we  adhere 
to  the  method  of  budduig  in  vogue  during  the  last  century,  espe- 
cially in  the  case  of  masonry  ?  Classical  Antiquity  and  the  Middle 
Ages,  which  certainly  did  not  possess  our  material  apphances, 
were  bolder  in  conception  than  we  are, — more  inventive.  How 
is  it  that  we  do  not  take  oiu*  starting-point  from  the  level  wliich 
our  predecessors  had  already  reached  ?  How  is  it  that  we  are  less 
subtle,  less  ingenious  ?  Why  reject  methods,  which,  developed 
with  the  help  of  the  powerful  appliances  we  possess,  might  produce 


54  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

novel  features,  and  effect  a  considerable  economy  in  our  manner 
of  building?  Is  it  not  high  time  we  left  to  the  hinderers  of 
progress  tliose  puerile  disputes  respecting  the  comparative  worth 
of  the  methods  employed  by  the  architects  of  Classical  Antiquity, 
of  the  Middle  Ages,  of  the  Renaissance,  and  of  Modern  times, 
to  profit  by  all  those  inventions,  and  to  adopt  the  various  prin- 
ciples suggested  to  us,  without  exclusion  or  prejudice,  though 
with  the  aid  of  close  and  critical  examination  ?  If  we  establish 
the  superiority  of  the  Parthenon  to  the  Cathedral  of  Rheims, 
or  of  the  Cathedral  of  Rheims  to  the  Parthenon,  it  will 
little  advance  us  as  architects  intrusted  with  the  buildmg 
of  our  century,  if  in  these  two  conceptions  we  fail  to  discover 
elements  applicable  to  our  own  times;  or  if,  imbued  with  exclusive 
prejudices,  we  reject  the  principles  adopted  in  either  of  these 
edifices,  with  a  view  to  please  this  or  that  coterie,  in  which  the 
public  has  scarcely  any  interest,  and  whose  influence  will  be 
foi-gotten  a  quarter  of  a  century  hence. 

The  study  of  the  systems  adopted  by  the  builders  of  former 
times  is  undoubtedly  the  right  means  of  learning  to  build  our- 
selves, but  something  more  must  be  obtained  from  this  study 
than  insipid  copies.  Thus,  e.g.  we  perceive  that  in  the  principle 
of  MecUajval  vaulting  there  are  elements  which  are  admirable, 
inasmuch  as  they  admit  of  great  freedom  in  execution,  and  an 
extreme  lightness  combined  with  elasticity.  Does  it  then  follow 
that  if  we  would  make  use  of  the  novel  materials  with  which  our 
manufactures  supply  us,  such  as  cast  or  roUed  iron,  we  should 
content  ourselves  with  substituting  arches  of  cast  or  plate  iron 
for  arches  of  stone  ?  No  ;  we  may  adopt  the  principle,  but  while 
adopting  it,  since  the  material  is  changed,  we  should  change  the 
form.  In  the  previous  Lectmre  we  showed  how,  by  the  moderate 
employment  of  cast-iron,  we  may  vault  with  masonry  a  very 
wide  haU  without  having  recourse  to  buttresses.  We  must 
develop  the  applications  that  can  be  made  of  these  novel 
materials,  and  show  how,  while  preserving  the  excellent  prm- 
ciples  adopted  by  the  old  buildei's,  we  should  be  led  to  modify 
the  features  of  the  structure.  It  is  not  necessary  here  to  repeat 
what  we  have  already  often  said  respecting  the  conditions  of 
masonry  structure ;  we  take  it  for  granted  that  our  readers 
understand  that  in  point  of  general  principle  there  are  but  two 
systems  of  structure, — passive,  inert  structvu'e,  and  equilibrated 
structure.  More  than  ever  we  are  being  led  to  the  adoption  of 
the  latter  only,  both  on  account  of  the  nature  of  the  materials 
used,  and  from  reasons  of  economy,  which  are  becoming  increas- 
ingly imperative.  The  architects  of  the  Middle  Ages  opened 
for  us  the  path  we  should  follow  ;  clearly  one  of  progress,  what- 
ever may  be  said,  and  we  should  pursue  it. 

As  a  first  example,  here,  figure  1,  is  an  arrangement  fre- 


LECTURE  XII. 


55 


Fig.  1.— Mediaeval  method  for  the  support  of  a  Projecting  Galler}'  on  Stone  Corbels 


56  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

queutly  adopted  in  the  civil  edifices  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and 
which  presents  certam  advantages.  In  those  times,  buildings 
were  seldom  erected  of  double  thickness  ;  each  block  of  building 
contained  only  a  single  apartment  (in  its  width),  but  passages 
were  often  contrived  at  half-story  height,  which  afforded  easy 
communication  without  the  necessity  of  passing  length-wise 
through  the  chief  apartments.  These  passages  were  placed  in 
form  of  "  entresol,"  so  as  not  to  obstruct  the  light,  and  by  means 
of  a  few  steps  to  form  an  approach  at  the  same  time  either  to 
the  room  on  the  ground-floor  or  to  those  on  the  first-floor.  As 
shown  in  figure  1,  these  passages  were  carried  by  vaults  placed 
on  corbelling  (see  section  a).  By  this  arrangement  the  founda- 
tions had  only  the  thickness  a,  b.  Buttresses  c  supported  the 
corbelling  d,  on  which  rested  the  arches  e,  receiving  a  thin  wall 
of  stone,  J".  In  exterior  elevation,  this  construction  presented 
the  appearance  b.  The  vaults  carried  on  this  series  of  corbelling 
aflbrded  a  shelter  D  at  the  ground-floor  level,  on  the  exterior 
most  usefid  in  a  palace  court.  This  was  undeniably  a  piece  of 
construction  which  presented  advantages,  which  was  easy  of 
execution,  and  wliich  only  demanded  a  little  care  in  selecting 
the  large  stones  that  constituted  the  corljelhng  d.  The  outer 
arches  rested  on  the  springers  shown  in  detail  at  G,  which  also 
received  the  barrel  vaults  e  thinner  than  the  outer  arches,  since 
they  had  only  a  paved  floor  to  carry.  The  passage  was  ceiled 
by  joists  and  covered  by  stone  slabs  standing  clear  and  serving 
as  a  terrace  for  the  upper  hall.  The  weight  of  the  waU  h 
counterbalanced  the  overhanging  of  the  corbel  courses  a. 

Supposing  that  a  similar  arrangement  were  required  now, 
and  that  we  sought  to  adhere  entu^ely  to  the  principles  of  this 
structure, — should  we  rest  satisfied  with  exactly  reproducing 
the  design  in  figure  1  ?  Certainly  not ;  the  employment  of  cast- 
iron  enables  us  to  dispense  with  the  corbellmg  in  courses  of  hard 
stone  which  is  expensive  and  severe  in  appearance.  We  shall 
effect  a  saving  in  expense  and  shall  obtain  a  building  that  will 
present  greater  security,  will  be  less  weighty,  and  will  allow  a 
better  circulation  of  air  about  the  ground-floor.  Thus,  figure  2 
(see  section  a),  the  novel  system  adopted  will  enable  us  to 
diminish  the  projection  of  the  buttresses  c,  and  consequently  to 
make  a  saving  in  the  foundations.  In  lieu  of  the  four  corbel 
courses  of  hard  stone,  we  shall  have  a  cast-iron  column  or  sti-ut 
d,  set  at  an  angle  of  45°,  and  whose  capital,  furnished  like  the 
base  B  with  a  dowel,  will  support  the  stone  springer  D,  shown  in 
detail  at  d'.  The  overhanging  of  this  column  and  of  its  springer 
will  be  kept  up  by  the  double  tie-bar  T,  which  will  be  keyed 
either  at  e  or  in  the  thickness  of  the  pier.  The  s^^ringer  L  will 
rest  on  the  pier  furnished  with  a  corbel  G  ;  its  breaking  will  be 
hindered  by  the  two  bars  T  serving  the  purpose  of  lintels.     Above 


LECTURE  XII. 


57 


FiQ.  2  —Method  for  supporting  a  Projecting  Gallery  on  Iron  Struts. 


58  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

the  springer  we  might  proceed  as  in  figure  1.  Many  improve- 
ments however  could  be  made  on  the  original  structure. 
Instead  of  throwing  off  the  water  from  the  terrace  by  gargoyles, 
it  will  be  conducted  by  pipes  to  the  issues  H  (fig.  2),  contrived  at 
the  ends  of  the  sprmgers  L,  and  shown  in  detail  at  h'.  Falling 
thus  nearer  the  ground,  it  will  not  be  hkely  to  splash  the  walls. 
The  ceihng  of  'the  gallery  might  be  made  by  means  of  double 
T-iron,  on  the  flanges  of  which  might  be  laid  slabs  of  glazed  terra- 
cotta protected  by  a  coat  of  plastering  on  the  upper  side,  etc. 

This  example  is  sufficient  to  show  how  we  may  turn  to 
account  principles  adopted  in  mediaeval  masonry,  while  profit- 
ing by  the  resources  of  our  own  times.  If  we  study  with 
attention  and  without  prejudices  the  principles  applied  in  the 
masonry  work  of  the  thirteenth  and  fourteenth  centuries,  we 
shall  soon  perceive  that  the  structure  consists  only  of  independent 
members,  each  fidfilling  a  determinate  function.  We  no  longer 
have,  as  in  Roman  architecture,  concrete  and  homogeneous 
masses,  but  rather  a  kind  of  organism  whose  every  part  has  not 
only  its  purpose,  but  also  an  immediate  action,  sometimes  even 
an  active  one,  as,  e.g.  the  flying  buttresses  and  the  vaulting 
arches.  The  latter,  as  already  mentioned,  are  simply  permanent 
centres,  possessing  a  certain  elasticity,  such  as  curves  of  iron  would 
have.  It  is  plain,  however,  that  had  the  mediaeval  builders 
possessed  cast  or  rolled  iron  of  considerable  dimensions,  they 
would  not  have  employed  such  a  material  as  they  employed, 
stone.  That  would  have  necessitated  joinings  of  too  comj^licated 
a  character,  and  useless  work  ;  they  would  on  the  contrary  have 
sought  contrivances  more  in  harmony  with  the  nature  of  metal. 
It  is  likewise  evident,  however,  that  they  would  not  have  failed 
to  take  advantage  of  the  principles  of  elasticity  which  they  were 
already  applymg  to  buildings  of  stone,  and  that  they  would 
have  rendered  the  different  members  of  their  structure  still  more 
independent. 

Hitherto  cast  or  roUed  hon  has  been  employed  in  large 
buildings  only  as  an  accessory.  Where  edifices  have  been  erected 
in  which  metal  plays  the  principal  part,  as  in  the  Holies  Centrales 
of  Paris, — in  these  buildings  masonry  ceases  to  take  any  but 
an  exceptional  part,  serving  no  other  purpose  than  that  of 
partition  walls.  What  has  nowhere  been  attempted  with  intelli- 
gence is  the  simi^dtaneous  employment  of  metal  and  masoniy. 
Nevertheless  it  is  this  which  in  many  cases  architects  should 
endeavour  to  accomplish.  We  cannot  always  erect  either 
railway  stations,  markets,  or  other  immense  buildings  entirely  of 
masonry,  such  buildings  being  very  heavy  in  appearance,  very 
costly,  and  not  presenting  sufflciently  ample  interior  accommoda- 
tion. A  structure  in  masonry,  regarded  as  an  envelope  protect- 
ing from  cold  or  heat,  offers  advantages  which  nothing  could 


LECTURE  XII.  59 

replace.  The  problem  to  be  solved  for  pi'oviding  great  edifices 
destined  to  accommodate  large  assemblages  would  therefore  be 
this  : — To  obtain  a  shell  entirely  of  masonry,  walls  and  vaulting, 
while  diminishing  the  quantity  of  material  and  avoiding 
obstructive  supports  by  the  use  of  iron ;  to  improve  on  the 
system  of  equilibrium  adopted  by  the  mediaeval  architects,  by 
means  of  iron,  but  with  due  regai'd  to  the  qualities  of  that 
material,  and  avoiding  the  too  close  connection  of  the  masonry 
with  the  metal ;  as  the  latter  becomes  not  only  a  cause  of 
destruction  to  the  stone,  but  perishes  itself  very  quickly  when 
not  left  free.  Some  few  attempts  have  been  made  in  this  direc- 
tion, but  timidly, — ^for  instance  by  merely  substituting  columns 
of  cast  iron  for  stone  pillars.  Iron,  however,  is  destined  to 
play  a  more  important  part  in'  our  buildings  ;  it  should  certainly 
furnish  very  strong  and  slender  supports,  but  it  should  alsp 
enable  us  to  adopt  vaulting  at  once  novel  in  plan,  light,  strong 
and  elastic,  and  bold  constructions  forbidden  to  the  mason,  such 
as  overhanging  projections,  corbellings,  oblique  supports,  etc.  Is 
it  not  evident,  for  example,  that  while  retaining  the  system  of 
vaulting  employed  during  the  Middle  Ages,  the  thrust  of  that 
vaulting  might  be  resisted  by  the  means  represented  in  figure  3  ? 
The  use  of  rigid  shafts  or  cast-iron  columns  as  oblique  suppoiis, 
is  a  means  of  which  our  builders  have  not  yet  thought,  I  hardly 
know  why,  for  this  system  is  fruitful  in  deductions.  It  some- 
what contravenes  the  principles  of  Greek  and  even  Roman  archi- 
tecture ;  but  if  we  would  invent  that  architecture  of  our  oivn  times 
which  is  so  loudly  called  for,  we  must  certainly  seek  it  no  longer 
by  minghng  all  the  styles  of  the  past,  but  by  relying  on  novel 
principles  of  structure.  An  architecture  is  created  only  by  a 
rigorously  inflexible  compliance  with  modern  requirements,  while 
the  knowledge  akeady  acquhed  is  made  use  of,  or  at  least  not 
disregarded. 

Here  there  is  a  means  of  counterthrusting  vaulting  of 
masonry  built  according  to  the  mediaeval  method.  We  know 
that  this  vaulting  had  the  advantage  (to  say  nothing  of  its  light- 
ness) of  directing  all  the  weights  and  thrusts  on  known  points, 
and  in  lines  of  inclination  that  are  easily  ascertained.  It  is  clear 
that  if  the  resultant  of  the  pressures  takes  the  direction  a  b,  the 
cast-u'on  column  c,  placed  in  the  prolongation  of  that  line,  will 
counterthrust  the  vaulting.  By  placing  a  second  column  d,  at 
an  inclination  similar  to  that  of  the  column  e,  and  bracing  the 
apex  e  of  the  triangle  by  means  of  a  tie-bar,  the  thrust  resisted 
by  the  column  c  will  be  directed  tof.  Thus  on  piers  and  walls 
only  five  feet  thick  at  the  base  of  the  edifice  we  shall  support 
and  counterthrust  vaidting  of  masonry  whose  key-stones  are  at 
a  height  of  fifty  feet,  and  whose  span  is  forty  feet.  Nothing 
will  be  easier  than  to  make  use  of  the  tie-bar  to  support  a  floor. 


CO 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


to  build  a  low  wall  of  masonry  on  the  coupling  shoes  e,  and  to 
put  a  lean-to  roof  g  on  these  walls,  and  thus  obtain  a  passage  of 
communication  li,  or  small  upper  gallery.  Structures  of  this 
kind  necessarily  demand  a  certain  thoroughness  of  execution. 
Thus  the  walls  must  be  well  founded  and  built ;  their  superincum- 
bent weight  shoidd  be  sufficient  to  insure  great  firmness  in  the 
building  from  i  to  k.  The  springers  of  the  arches  should  be 
formed  above  the  abutment  of  the  column  c,  in  the  manner 
shown  at  I,  so  as  to  well  shore  the  vaulting.  The  coupling  shoes 
e,  of  cast-iron,  should  be  contrived  as  shown  in  this  diagram  A  ; 
the  surface  m  being  intended  to  receive  the  base  of  the  coliunn 


S»Jii^i.iUi>iLir 


Fio.  3. — Novel  method  of  resisting  the  thrust  of  Vaulting. 


c,  and  the  surface  n  the  capital  of  the  column  d.  Two  bars  of 
double  T-iron,  or  plate-iron  with  angle-pieces  riveted  on,  will 
fasten,  the  outer  ones  at  o,  and  the  inner  ones  into  grooves  pro- 
jecting from  the  sides  of  the  shoe.  The  coupling  plate  p  of  the 
outer  bars  \\'ill  be  di-illed  to  receive  the  ends  of  the  tie-bai's, 
which  for  greater  security  (for  the  strength  of  the  work  will 
depend  on  their  firm  hold)  wiU  be  double,  as  seen  at  B  and  b', 
and  fiu'nished  with  claws  s  at  their  extremity,  which  will  enter 
into  a  jaw  indicated  at  t.  A  key  through  which  passes  the  bolt 
X  will  force  the  tie-bars  to  remain  in  their  notching.     The  bolt 


LECTURE  XII.  61 

will  pass  through  the  plate  p,  and  will  be  terminated  by  a  screw- 
nut.  On  the  bars  of  double  T-iron,  or  on  the  iron  plates  with 
the  X'iveted  angle-irons,  we  shall  be  able  to  build  the  low  enclosing 
wall  of  masoniy  y.  The  thrust  of  the  lean-to  will  be  met  by  the 
ties  r.  Tie-bars  placed  above  the  vaulting  at  «  at  the  base  of  the 
roof  will  complete  the  trapeziums  a  e  q  z,  which  will  rest  on 
solid  masonry  at  their  angle  q. 

Tliis  organism  is  undoubtedly  less  simple  than  was  that 
which  consisted  of  a  series  of  massive  stone  buttresses  intended 
to  counterthrust  the  vaulting.  It  is  however  less  expensive, 
as  this  combination  of  iron  stays  cannot  cost  so  much  as  the 
buttresses  with  therr  foundations  :  besides,  less  space  is  taken  up. 

In  the  terrestrial  economy  the  tendency  is  always  towards 
increased  complexity ;  the  organism  of  a  man  is  more  complex 
than  that  of  a  batrachian.  Our  social  condition  is  much  less 
simple  than  was  that  of  the  Greeks  in  the  time  of  Pisistratus,  or 
of  the  Romans  of  the  Auarvistan  as:e.  Our  clothes  consist  of 
twenty  or  thu-ty  parts  instead  of  three  or  four,  as  did  those  of 
the  ancients,  and  the  scientific  outfit  of  a  learned  Greek  would 
not  fill  a  quarter  of  the  brain  of  a  Bachelor  of  Arts  of  the  present 
day.  It  is  therefore  somewhat  childish  to  tell  us  now-a-days 
that  we  ought  to  buUd  like  the  Greeks.  In  every  phase  of 
civihsation  all  its  phenomena  are  linked  together,  and  if  archi- 
tecture has  reached  a  very  difhcult  and  dangerous  crisis,  it  is 
because  we  have  not  sufficiently  thought  of  making  it  follow 
the  intellectual  and  material  movement  of  our  age.  While 
endeavouiing,  if  we  will,  to  perpetuate  or  to  modify  the  architec- 
tural forms  adopted  in  past  times,  and  adopting  them  more  or 
less  successfully  to  present  requirements,  it  wiU  be  deshable  to 
consider  how  we  may  make  the  utmost  possible  and  the  most 
rational  use  of  that  which  our  age  and  knowledge  supplies  us 
with.  The  study  of  the  past  is  obhgatory,  in  fact  indispensable, 
but  on  the  condition  of  deducing  therefrom  principles  rather 
than  forms. 

Substituting  a  shaft  of  cast-iron  for  a  column  of  granite  or 
marble  is  all  veiy  well,  but  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  this 
cannot  be  I'egarded  as  an  imiovation, — the  adoption  of  a  new 
principle.  Replacing  a  lintel  of  stone  or  wood  by  an  iron  joist  is 
all  very  well  in  its  way.  It  is  not  however,  any  more  than  the 
former,  the  result  of  a  great  intellectual  effort.  But  substituting 
oblique  for  vertical  resistance  is  a  principle  which,  if  not 
absolutely  novel — since  the  medifeval  architects  had  ah'eady 
adopted  it, — may  assume  a  very  high  degree  of  importance  and 
lead  to  novel  contrivances,  now  that  the  introduction  of  iron  into 
buUdings  enables  us  to  attempt  undertakings  of  which  former 
ages  had  only  a  vague  presentiment.     During  the  last  twenty 


62  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

years  we  have  seen  engineers  making  a  -quite  novel  application 
of  iron  employed  as  a  building  material.  From  the  Pont  des 
Arts  to  the  tvibular  bridges  there  is  in  fact  an  immense  step,  but 
neither  engineers  nor  architects  have  as  yet  succeeded  in  com- 
bming  in  a  really  satisfactory  manner  masonry  with  iron  con- 
struction ;  and  yet  there  are  many  cases  m  which  the  system  of 
masonry  building  could  not  be  superseded.  It  is  scarcely  pos- 
sible to  obtain  a  building  satisfactoiy  as  regards  the  health  of 
the  inmates,  warm  in  winter  and  cool  in  summer,  unaffected  by 
variations  of  temperature,  constructed  of  u-on  alone.  Masonry 
walls  and  vaulting  will  always  present  advantages  superior  to 
those  obtamed  by  any  other  method.  We  must  therefore  be 
content  in  most  instances  to  continue  to  employ  masonry.  Can 
it  then  be  combined  with  iron  construction  ?  Certainly  it  can  ; 
but  under  the  condition  that  these  two  methods  of  buildmg 
shall  each  preserve  its  characteristics,  that  they  shall  not  be  com- 
bined to  their  mutual  injury.  Cast  or  wrought  ii-on,  moreovei-, 
is  Uable  to  variations  which  must  always  be  taken  into  accovint ; 
it  must  therefore  be  allowed  a  certain  hberty  of  movement,  it 
must  not  be  embedded  m  the  masonry,  and  must  retain  its 
independent  fimction. 

Moreover,  while  as  a  support  cast-ii'on  presents  a  rigidity 
greatly  superior  to  that  of  any  of  the  materials  constituting 
masonry,  it  has  not  their  stability.  These  vertical  supports 
therefore  can  only  be  kept  up  by  very  strong  stays.  This 
greatly  complicates  the  work,  augments  the  weight,  and  conse- 
quently the  expense.  If  rigid  cast-iron  supports  were  so  con- 
trived as  mutually  to  stay  each  other,  we  should  thereby  get  rid 
of  a  whole  mass  of  secondary  parts. 

Let  us  suppose  that  we  have  to  build — as  is  often  done  in 
the  provinces — a  large  assembly-hall  over  a  covered  market-place. 
If  we  raise  this  hall  m  mason-work  on  rows  of  cast-ii'on  columns 
in  order  to  gain  space  and  secure  more  air  and  light  in  the 
market,  these  supports  must  be  tolerably  numerous,  and  must  be 
connected  at  their  upper  part  by  powerful  stays,  so  as  to  hinder 
the  superstructiu'e  from  toppling  over,  and  we  shall  have  a 
rather  inconvenient  row  of  columns  along  the  side  of  the  street. 
If,  on  the  contrary,  we  adopt  a  plan  analogous  to  that  shown  in 
the  section,  figure  4,  it  is  evident  that  the  hexagon  whose  half 
is  drawn  at  ah  c  presents  a  stable  figure,  and  that  even  the 
addition  of  the  triangle  h  d  c  in  nowise  lessens  this  stability 
while  the  line  c  e  remains  unbroken. 

With  this  elementary  figure  as  our  basis  we  may  support 
the  great  hall  over  our  market-place  as  shown  by  the  drawing  a. 
On  stone  blocks  /,  solidly  bedded,  placed  at  distances  deter- 
mined by  the  width  of  the  bays,  we  set  cast-iron  columns  inclined 


LECTURE  XII. 


63 


atari  angle  of  60°.  The  capitals  of  these  columns  are  held  by 
the  transv'erse  wrought-ii'on  girders  which  cany  the  joists  of 
T-iron,  from  one  to  another  of  which  we  turn  barrel  arches  of 
brick.  From  the  ends  of  the  girders  g  may  be  suspended  stirrups 
for  the  sujiport  of  cast-u-on  shoes,  to  receive  the  springers  of  stone 
arches  h,  on  which  we  shall  build  the  walls  of  the  haU,  likewise 
of  masonry.  Brackets  of  cast-iron  i,  in  two  parts,  secured  by  the 
tie-rods  y,  and  whose  thrust  at  foot  will  be  counteracted  by  the 
triangles  o  p  q,  o  s  q,  will  sustain  the  longitudinal  barrel  vaults  k, 
which  will  in  their  turn  support  the  main  upper  vaulting.     One 


Fig.  4. — Method  for  the  support  of  a  Masonry  Structure  on  obliquely  set  Iron  Columns. 

essential  condition  will  be  to  bed  the  blocks  f,  not  on  separate 
foundations,  but  on  solid  transverse  walls ;  for  it  is  important 
that  the  feet  of  the  columns  f,  g,  a,  h,  should  not  be  able  to 
lessen  their  distance  apart  under  the  pressure  and  thereby  raise 
the  columns  of  the  inner  triangle. 

As  staircases  will  certainly  be  required,  and  anterooms,  and 
means  for  heatmg  the  upper  haU,  the  general  plan  will  be  that 
represented  in  figure  5,  and  these  two  end  buildings  will 
lainder  any  movement  of  the  lower  bays  in  a  longitudinal  du-ec- 
tion.     The  spaces  m  towards  the  street  (see  figure  4)  sheltered 


64 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


by  the  incumbent  arches  will  be  very  convenient  for  the  buyers 
and  for  placing  the  stalls  ;  moi-eover  there  is  nothing  to  prevent 
the  fixing  of  awnings  at  n. 

It  will  be  understood  that  it  is  not  my  pui-pose  here  to  offer 
specimens  of  architectural  style.  That  is  not  the  question  now  ; 
my  purpose  is  simply  to  suggest  to  our  younger  professional 
brethren  the  proper  method  for  proceeding  in  the  search  for 
novel  elements  of  structure.  I  should  be  happy  to  select 
examples  for  illustration  from  existing  buildings  constructed  on 
a  really  original  plan.  As  there  are  none,  and  as  I  am  anxious  to 
make  myself  clearly  understood,  in  regard  to  the  object  towards 
which  our  endeavours  might  be  directed,   I  am,   much  to  my 


Fig.  5.— Plan  of  Building  supported  on  obliquely  set  Iron  Columns. 

regret,  compelled  to  give  the  result  of  my  own  reflections.  I 
am  aware  that  the  fomis  which  originate  in  the  rational  employ- 
ment of  the  means  of  construction  afforded  by  our  age  are  not 
altogether  classical, — that  they  depart  somewhat  from  certain 
valued  traditions  ;  but  if  we  honestly  desire  to  inaugurate  the 
era  of  a  new  architecture,  in  harmony  with  modern  materials, 
apphances,  requirements,  and  tendencies  in  the  dii-ection  of  a 
reasonable  economy,  we  must  make  up  our  minds  to  give  up 
to  some  extent  traditionary  Greek  or  Roman  notions,  or  those 
of  the  Grand  Siecle,  when  people  built  badly. 

The  constructors  of  locomotive  engines  did  not  take  it  into 


PL, XXI 


Cf-  ■  Siiu^va^^^l^  .  >fC- 


MOREL' Ed !te. 


LECTURE  XII.  65 

their  heads  to  copy  a  stage-coach  team.  Moreover  we  must  con- 
sider that  Art  is  not  riveted  to  certain  forms,  but  that,  like 
human  thought,  it  can  incessantly  clothe  itself  in  new  ones. 
Again,  buildings  are  not  made  to  be  seen  in  geometrical  eleva- 
tions ;  possibly  the  effect  of  that  whose  plan  and  section  we  have 
just  given  would  not  be  entirely  devoid  of  character.  Plate  XXI. 
will  enable  us  to  judge  of  this.  All  that  is  contemplated  is 
merely  a  hall  above  a  sheltered  place.  The  question  is  how  to 
provide  this  requirement  in  the  simplest  and  most  substantial 
manner. 

Let  it  be  well  understood,  once  for  all,  that  architecture  can- 
not array  itself  in  new  forms  iinless  it  seeks  them  in  the 
rigorous  applications  of  novel  methods  of  construction ;  that 
casing  cast-iron  columns  with  cylinders  of  brick  or  coatings  of 
stucco,  or  building  iron  supports  into  masonry,  for  example,  is  not 
the  result  either  of  calculation  or  of  an  effort  of  imagination,  but 
merely  a  disguising  of  the  actual  construction  ;  no  disguise  of  the 
means  employed  can  lead  to  new  forms.  When  the  lay  architects 
of  the  thirteenth  century  invented  a  system  of  structure  different 
from  any  that  had  been  previously  used,  they  did  not  give  to 
their  architecture  the  forms  adopted  by  the  Roman  or  the 
Romanesque  architects  ;  they  gave  a  frank  expression'  to  that 
structure  and  thus  succeeded  in  originating  new  forms  possessing 
a  characteristic  physiognomy.  Let  us  endeavour  to  proceed 
thus  logically ;  let  us  frankly  adopt  the  appliances  afforded  us  by 
our  own  times,  and  apply  them  without  the  intervention  of 
traditions  which  have  lost  their  vitality ;  only  thus  shall  we  be 
able  to  originate  an  architecture.  If  iron  is  destined  to  play  an 
important  part  in  our  buildings,  let  us  study  its  properties,  and 
frankly  utilise  them,  with  that  sound  judgment  which  the  true 
artists  of  every  age  have  brought  to  bear  upon  their  works. 

It  is  strange  that  we  should  have  almost  entirely  abandoned 
masonry  vaulting  of  wide  area.  We  vault  the  lower  story  of  a 
building  by  groining  or  doming  in  narrow  bays,  and  on  piers  near 
together,  and  made  with  jointed  stone- work, — which  is  very 
expensive, — or  with  brick  ;  but  when  wide  spaces  have  to  be 
covered,  our  ingenuity  is  generally  limited  to  setting  up  an  iron 
framework  consisting  of  curves,  braces,  intermediate  ribs  and  ties, 
the  whole  of  which  is  afterwards  pugged  with  pottery  or  hollow 
bricks.  Besides  being  expensive,  this  kmd  of  construction  in- 
volves the  enclosincr  of  the  iron — a  material  which  readily  oxidises 
and  is  affected  by  variations  of  temperature — m  concrete  masonry 
which  the  least  movement  must  crack,  and  which  has  the  effect 
of  hastening  the  oxidation  of  the  metal.  Thus  imbedded  in  the 
pugging  it  is  impossible  to  ascertain  the  condition  of  the  fasten- 
ings and  bolts,  and  thereby  to  prevent  mishap.     In  dwelling- 

VOL.  n.  E 


66  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

houses  pugged  floors  of  this  description  may  be  all  very  well,  as 
the  habitations  in  a  great  city  are  not  intended  to  last  for 
many  centuries,  but  in  edifices  which  should  endure  as  long  as  a 
city,  this  kind  of  structure  consisting  of  iron  and  pugging  con- 
jointly leads  to  disastrous  consequences.  The  skUl  of  the 
builder  is  displayed  not  merely  in  assuring  himself  of  the  excel- 
lence of  the  materials  and  the  methods  he  employs,  but  also  in 
so  contriving  that  the  various  parts  of  the  structure  may  always 
be  got  at,  exammed,  and  repahed  when  requhed.  The  iron -work 
and  timber  framing  should  as  far  as  possible  remain  visible,  for 
these  materials  are  perishable,  and  hable  to  changes  in  their 
properties.  But  we  see  edifices  buUt,  whose  costly  walls  of  solid 
hewn  stone  wUl  defy  the  effects  of  time,  while  these  walls  enclose 
vaulting  and  floors  whose  duration  is  very  problematical,  so 
much  so  indeed  that  our  successors,  who  will  probably  have  been 
obliged  to  reconstruct  or  repair  these  parts  of  the  structure 
several  times,  wiU  scarcely  comprehend  the  union  of  such  un- 
precedented extravagance  with  svich  an  absence  of  precaution.  It 
would  seem  as  if  our  architects  were  ashamed  to  employ  iron ; 
they  conceal  it  as  far  as  possible  beneath  plastering  and  pugging, 
which  give  it  the  appearance  of  a  masonry  structure.  Some,  we 
must  do  them  the  justice  to  remark,  have  ventm-ed  to  show  iron 
girders  beneath  the  floors,  and  to  decorate  and  dignify  them ; 
but  when  vaulting  is  in  question,  the  iron  is  merely  a  concealed 
framework,  an  incased  carcass.  Iron  is  made  to  serve  as  an 
appliance  for  obviating  the  outward  thrust  of  masonry  vaulting, 
not  by  means  that  are  frank  and  apparent,  but  by  contrivances 
which  are  carefully  concealed,  and  which,  as  is  the  case  with  all 
appliances  of  the  kind,  are  wanting  in  efliciency. 

We  are  familiar  with  the  smaple  and  natural  methods  by 
which  the  mediteval  arcliitects  of  our  own  country  counter- 
thrusted  their  vaulting, — namely,  by  buttresses  and  even  flying 
buttresses,  that  is  by  exterior  resistance,  inert  or  acting 
obliquely.  In  Italy,  architects  adopted  a  more  simple  contriv- 
ance ;  they  placed  horizontal  iron  tie-bars  above  the  springmg 
of  the  arches  at  the  line  of  thrust.  In  point  of  fact,  the  thrust 
of  vaulting  must  be  resisted  either  by  abutments  or  by  ties,  to 
obviate  the  spread.  How  is  it  that  while  in  France  we  object 
to  the  appearance  of  interior  ties  beneath  our  masonry  vaulting, 
our  sight  is  not  offended  by  the  presence  of  those  which  are  so 
profusely  employed  in  Italian  buildings  ?  I  shall  not  attempt 
to  explain  this  mconsistency  ;  I  merely  remark  that  the  architects 
who  sketch  the  Italian  buildings  of  the  Middle  Ages  and  the 
Renaissance  suppress  these  iron  ties  in  the  edifices  built  m 
imitation  of  them,  which  leads  one  to  suppose  that  they  regard 
them  as  offensive  on  this  side  of  the  Alps ;  why,  then,  should 


LECTURE  XII.  67 

they  have  no  objection  to  them  on  the  other  side  ?  I  Avill  add 
that  the  ties  across  the  springLng  of  the  Itahan  vaulting  make 
no  pretension  whatever  to  be  a  decorative  feature ;  they  are 
simply  iron  bars.  It  is  fortunate,  however,  that  it  has  not 
occurred  to  the  Itahan  clergy  to  have  these  bars  cut  away  in 
their  churches,  as  our  French  curds  have  done  with  the  tie-beams 
of  all  the  timber  ceilings  ;  for  had  they  done  so,  many  an  edifice 
which  now  excites  the  admiration  of  travellers  would  have 
fallen. 

Nevertheless  the  proper  function  of  iron  in  masonry  vaulting 
is  that  of  a  tie,  whenever  we  wish  to  aA^oid  having  recourse  to 
the  expensive  contrivance  of  buttresses  and  abutments.  The 
principle  being  resolutely  adopted,  we  should  avail  ourselves  of 
all  the  advantages  it  affords,  -svith  rather  more  intelligence  than 
was  shown  by  the  architects  of  the  Italian  Renaissance,  who, 
whUe  adhering  to  the  Eoman  system  of  structure,  or  adopting 
that  of  the  French  mediteval  vaulting,  were  content  to  brace 
the  thiiist  by  means  of  u'on  bai's  ;  for  this  is  merely  a  makeshift, 
it  is  not  a  novel  system  of  structure. 

The  use  of  ii'on  allows  of  feats  of  constraction  from  which  we 
seem  to  shrink  back.  It  would  appear  that  we  have  only  an 
imperfect  confidence  in  the  properties  of  this  material.  We 
employ  it  only  as  a  means  of  producing  additional  security,  i.e. 
with  resei-vations,  so  that  instead  of  lessening  it  often  ser\-es 
only  to  increase  the  expense.  Vaulting  built  according  to  the 
medipeval  method,  with  iron  ribs  in  place  of  stone  ones,  is  neither 
sensible,  nor  good,  nor  cheap ;  it  cannot  be  regarded  as  an 
intelligent  use  of  iron  in  view  of  its  properties.  We  may 
thereby  somewhat  diminish  the  thrusts,  but  we  scarcely  benefit 
by  the  advantages  which  a  structure  of  mingled  u'on  and  masonry 
is  capable  of  affording.  As  we  just  now  obsei-ved,  the  erection  of 
an  iron  framework  in  the  form  of  a  barrel  or  a:romed  vaiUtmtr,  and 
imbedduig  tliis  stnicture  in  plaster  of  Paris  or*  hollow  brickwork, 
is  a  contravention  of  true  construction, — placing  in  close  contact 
two  materials  of  opposite  nature  ;  it  is  shutting  up  the  wolf  in 
the  sheepfold.  ProA-ision  should  be  made  for  the  contraction  of 
the  iron  and  for  its  changes,  and  it  should  only  be  used  under 
conditions  favourable  to  the  development  of  its  properties. 
When,  therefore,  we  would  build  masonry  vaulting  on  iron,  the 
latter  should  retain  its  liberty  of  movement  and  be  able  to  expand 
'ndthout  rending  the  concrete  envelope  which  it  supports.  The 
fastenings  should  remain  \"isible — clearly  seen — so  that,  should 
any  part  give  way,  it  may  be  promptly  reparred.  If  we  propose  to 
use  iron  conjointly  with  masonry,  we  must  give  up  the  traditional 
methods  of  Roman  structure.  We  have  no  longer  to  contemplate 
erecting  buildings  based  on  inert  immoveable  masses,  but  to 


68 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


pi'ovide  for  elasticity  and  equilibrium.  The  distribution  of 
active  forces  must  replace  an  agglomeration  of  passive  forces. 
For  the  attainment  of  these  results,  the  study  of  the  structure 
of  the  French  mediasval  buildings  can  be  of  great  service,  for 
the  architects  of  that  period  had  already  substituted  the  laws  of 
equilibration  and  elasticity  for  those  of  Roman  structure  ;  but  it 
does  not  follow  that  we  should  imitate  the  forms  which  they 
employed — -forms  which  are  admirable  where  masonry  only  is 
used,  but  which  are  unmeaning  where  iron  and  masonry  are 
similtaneously  employed.  Had  the  mediaeval  architects  possessed 
the  products  of  our  metal  manufactures,  they  woidd  assuredly, 
in  virtue  of  their  logical  and  subtle  intelligence,  have  adopted 
other  forms.  They  would,  e.g.  have  endeavoured  to  reduce  the 
great  height  of  their  vaulting — a  height  which  was  occasioned 
by  the  mode  of  structure  adopted,  much  rather  than  by  a3sthetic 


e.ciniLBoiaDj:. 


Fig. 


-Method  of  combined  Iron  and  Masoniy  Vaulting. 


considerations — a  height  which  often  involved  difficulty,  and  was 
an  occasion  of  expense. 

It  is  jjossible  by  means  of  u-on,  employed  as  sinews  and 
tendons,  to  construct  vaulting  of  little  rise  and  great  span. 
Figure  6  sliows  a  method  for  obtaining  this  result. 

Suppose  an  interior  of  50  feet  in  width.     Dividing  it  into 


LECTURE  XII. 


69 


bays  of  14  or  15  feet,  and  placing  at  each  division  arch-ribs  ah  c 
formed  of  plate  and  angle-iron,  and  fitting  at  a  into  cast-ii'on 
uprights ;  bolting  coupling  plates  at  the  elbow  h,  bearing  on 
cast-iron  struts  d ;  footing  these  struts  into  boxes  e,  firmly 
suspended  from  the  strengthened  jimctions  g  ;  and  maintaining 
the  heads  h  of  the  cast-iron  uprights  in  place  by  the  ties  li  i,  we 
shall  obtain  firm  and  substantial  ribs,  whose  intermediate  spaces 
may  be  arched  with  amiular  vaultmg  carried  by  the  trusses.  As 
the  cast-iron  supports  simply  rest  on  the  top  of  the  wall  at/", 
the  expansion,  through  the  form  given  to  the  barrel  arching, 


£.  maiM-tiOT, 


Fig. 


-Details  of  Iron  Vaulting  Truss. 


wUl  only  be  able  to  occasion  ruptures  at  i".  But  if  at  h,  from 
one  truss  to  another,  we  have  fixed  a  rib  of  plate-  and  angle-iron 
inclined  in  the  direction  of  the  meeting  of  the  two  segments  of 
barrel  arching,  the  ruptm-e  caused  by  the  expansion  of  the  iron. 


70  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITEGTUBE. 

will  take  place  at  this  point  of  junction,  and  will  do  no  harm, 
since  the  junction  will  be  supported  by  the  double  flanges  of 
the  angle-ii'on  bracing.  On  the  capitals  h  of  the  cast-ii'on 
supports  we  shall  be  able  to  build  the  arches,  spandrUs,  and 
coi'nices  of  masonry  rn. 

A  few  details,  figure  7,  will  be  necessary  to  explain  the  con- 
struction of  the  iron  truss  supporting  the  annular  masonry 
vaidting.  At  A  is  drawn  the  side  elevation,  and  at  B  the  section 
through  a  h  of  the  cast-iron  uprights.  At  c  the  perspective  view 
of  these  supports.  The  plate-iron  cui-ves  D  fit  into  the  grooves  e 
of  the  uprights,  the  curves  are  strengthened  at  their  extrados 
with  angle-irons  f,  which  receive  the  stones  g  on  whose  beds  rest 
the  bricks  li,  forming  the  annular  vaulting.  At  E  is  drawn  the 
clip  in  two  parts  of  the  tie-rods  passing  at  /.  At  G  the  coupling- 
plates  marked  h  in  figure  G,  with  the  end  h  of  one  of  the  cast- 
iron  struts.  At  H  the  coupling-plates  marked  g  in  figure  G.  At 
o  woidd  be  placed  the  window  casements. 

On  the  cast-iron  uprights  would  rest  the  stone  springers  p  of 
the  arches  forming  wall-ribs,  and  reveal  for  the  glazed  casements. 
A  pei'spective  view,  figure  8,  will  complete  the  illustration  of 
this  structure. 

Is  it  possible  to  give  these  iron  trusses  an  architecturally 
decorative  appearance  ?  I  tliink  so  ;  but  this  cannot  be  done  by 
giving  them  forms  appropriate  to  masonry.  With  our  present 
appliances  for  iron  structure,  a  decorative  effect  cannot  be  ob- 
tained except  at  considerable  cost,  for  our  manufactories  do  not 
supply  us  with  the  elements  required  for  producing  it.  But  the 
reason  why  our  manufactories  fail  to  supply  them  is  that  we 
have  liitherto  given  iron  only  an  accessory  or  concealed  fiinction 
in  our  great  buildings,  because  we  have  not  seriously  considered 
how  to  make  the  best  use  of  the  material  by  giving  it  forms 
appropriate  to  its  nature.^  Further  on,  when  we  come  to  treat 
more  especially  of  the  employment  of  iron,  we  shall  endeavour 
to  show  how  tliis  material  may  be  rendered  ornamental,  or  rather 
what  are  the  decorative  forms  appropriate  to  it.  When  we  look 
at  the  structural  ii'on-work  employed  in  buildings  twenty  years 
ago,  and  compare  the  comphcated,  weak,  heavy  and  consequently 
expensive  gu-ders  of  that  time  with  those  constructed  within  the 
last  few  years,  it  is  impossible  not  to  recognise  a  marked  advance. 
Is  it  the  architects  of  repute  who  have  been  the  promoters  of 

'  Routine  is  a  goddess  still  powerful  among  us.  In  our  metal  manufactories  she  receives 
■a  veritable  worship  ;  and  should  Free  Trade  effect  no  other  result  than  that  of  gradually  sup- 
pressing this  worship,  it  will  have  done  good  service.  We  have  known  lari^e  manufactories 
refuse  to  make  iron  rolled  to  a  novel  section,  because  cjlinders  would  have  to  be  con- 
structed, though  the  order  amounted  to  more  than  a  hundred  tons  weight.  If  oue  of  these 
manufacturers  was  willing  to  execute  the  order,  as  he  was  aware  that  others  had  been 
applied  to  in  vain,  he  demanded  so  high  a  j)rice  that  the  saving  which  iron  of  the  new 
pattern  could  have  effected  was  rendered  impossible. 


LECTURE  XII. 


71 


tliis  progi-ess  ?  Unfortunately,  no  I  It  is  to  our  engineers  that 
it  is  due  ;  but  since  their  architectural  education  is  very  limited, 
they  have  employed  u'on  merely  in  view  of  practical  utility  with- 
out regard  for  ai'tistic  form ;  and  we  architects,  who  ought  to 
have  been  able  to  afford  them  aid  when  form  was  in  question, 
have  on  the  contrary  done  our  utmost  to  hinder  the  adoption 


Fio.  8. — Perspective  View  of  combined  Iron  and  Masonry  Vaulting, 

of  these  novel  appliances ;  or,  if  we  have  adopted  them,  it  has 
been  merely  as  a  mechanical  means,  which — I  repeat  it — we 
have  been  careful  to  conceal  beneath  cei-tain  forms  hallowed  by 
tradition.  Hence  it  has  been  concluded,  not  without  reason, 
that  architects  are  not  sirfficiently  scientific  and  that  engmeers 
are  not  sufficiently  artistic.     And  yet  in  view  of  our  present 


72  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

requirements  and  our  novel  appliances  it  is  more  than  ever 
necessary  that  the  builder  should  be  both  artist  and  savant  if 
we  would  obtain  original  artistic  forms,  or,  more  correctly, 
artistic  forms  in  harmony  with  the  requirements  of  our  age. 
If  we  take  a  fair  and  unprejudiced  view  of  things  we  cannot 
shut  our  eyes  to  the  fact  that  the  professions  of  the  architect  and 
the  civil  engineer  tend  to  merge  one  into  the  other  as  was 
formerly  the  case.  If  it  is  the  instinct  of  self-preservation  that 
has  caused  architects  of  late  to  resist  what  they  regard  as  the 
encroachment  of  the  engineer  on  their  domain,  or  to  set  them- 
selves against  the  methods  adopted  by  the  latter,  this  instinct 
has  badly  served  them,  and  if  it  rules,  wiU  have  no  other  result 
than  gradually  contracting  the  architect's  field  and  limiting  him 
to  the  function  of  decorative  designer.  A  little  reflection  will 
show  us  that  the  interests  of  the  two  professions  will  be  best 
saved  by  their  union,  for  in  point  of  fact  the  name  is  of  little 
consequence  :  it  is  the  thing  which  is  essential,  and  art  is  that 
thing.  Whether  the  engineer  acquires  a  little  of  our  knowledge 
and  love  for  artistic  form — so  far  as  that  love  is  rational  and 
is  somethmg  more  than  mere  sentiment, — or  whether  the 
architect  enters  upon  the  scientific  studies  and  adopts  the  prac- 
tical methods  of  the  engineer, — whether  both  thus  succeed  in 
uniting  their  faculties,  knowledge,  and  appHances,  and  thereby 
realise  an  art  tridy  characteristic  of  our  times,  the  result  caimot 
fad  to  be  advantageous  to  the  pubhc  and  creditable  to  the  age. 
Some  endeavours  in  this  direction,  it  may  be  observed,  have  not 
been  unsuccessful,  and  the  city  of  Paris  may  well  congratulate 
itself  on  having  engaged  one  of  its  most  distinguished  architects 
to  carry  out,  in  the  building  of  the  ffalles  Centrales,  the  idea  and 
general  design  of  an  engineer.  If  among  the  numerous  buildings 
erected  of  late  years  this  better  than  any  other  fulfils  the  con- 
ditions of  the  programme,  and  if  it  is  approved  both  by  the 
public  and  by  professional  artists,  is  it  not  to  the  concurrence 
of  two  oi'ders  of  intellect  that  such  a  result  is  due  1  What 
danger  therefore,  or  what  disadvantage  to  art  would  ensue  if 
the  arcliitect  or  the  engineer  combined  in  himself  those  two 
elements  which  are  now  separated  ?  What  could  the  architect 
reasonably  hope  for,  from  the  maintenance  of  certam  absolute 
dogmas  respecting  art  which  are  at  variance  with  what  our  times 
demand  ?  Or  what  advantage  could  the  engineer  expect  to 
gain  by  ignoring  the  liberal  studies  of  art  and  confining  himself 
more  and  more  within  the  limits  of  formulas  ?  Whether  fifty 
years  hence  the  engineer  calls  himself  an  architect  or  the 
architect  an  engineer, — as  the  two  jirofessions  must  inevitably 
merge  into  one  another, — I  cannot  but  think  that  the  rivalry 
or  distinction  which  is   sought  to  be  kept  up  between  these 


LECTURE  XII.  73 

two  branches  of  art.,  which  are  destined  in  the  nature  of 
things  to  coalesce,  will  apjaear  somewhat  puerile.  Some  years 
ago,  a  member  of  our  profession, — I  forget  who, — felt  convinced 
that  he  inflicted  a  fatal  blow  on  that  of  the  engineer  by  the 
discovery  that  its  name  was  derived  from  the  word  engineor 
(maker  of  engines).  Against  this  plebeian  origin,  it  may  be 
remarked,  mig-ht  have  been  set  that  of  our  craft,  wliich  is  scarcely 
more  dignified. 

But  let  us  leave  for  a  while  these  fears  and  rivalries,  which 
ai'e  regarded  with  httle  interest  by  the  public,  and  comjalete 
our  task — borrowmg  as  occasion  may  require  some  of  the  aj^pli- 
ances  adopted  by  the  engineer,  and  endeavouring  to  reconcile 
them  with  the  a,rt  of  architectural  construction,  continumg  the 
consideration  of  the  ways  in  which  modern  appliances  may  be 
allied  with  the  ancient  tradition  of  masonry.  For  among  us 
architects  of  the  nineteenth  century — and  this  cannot  be  too 
often  repeated, — originality  can  I'esult  only  from  the  adoption 
of  appliances  hitherto  unused  with  forms  previously  invented, 
though  without  contravenmg  those  appliances.  So  far  our  age 
has  not  been  hard  to  please  in  this  respect,  since  we  have  seen 
the  substitution  of  novel  materials,  without  change  of  shaj^e, 
dignified  with  the  title  of  originahty.  It  is  not  for  vis  to  con- 
demn these  attempts — though  they  remain  barren  of  results — 
because  they  have  on  the  whole  tended  to  draw  the  attention 
of  the  pubhc  and  of  architects  to  the  consideration  of  these  new 
materials,  and  have  reduced  those  among  the  latter  who  were 
not  too  much  the  slaves  of  routine  to  seek  for  something  out  of 
the  common  way.  But  this  seeking  has  been  hitherto  rather 
superficial.  On  the  one  hand  suflicient  regard  has  not  been  paid 
to  the  essential  principles  of  construction,  and  on  the  other  hand 
courage  has  been  wanting  to  break  with  forms  which  are 
consecrated  and  dogmatically  prescribed.  Much  has  been  said 
about  progress,  but  in  point  of  fact  it  has  been  persistently 
regarded  as  the  upsetting  of  all  that  we  had  been  accustomed  to 
respect.  Classical  architects  have  continued  to  produce  pseudo- 
Boman  architecture,  loading  it  with  iron  ;  thencelbrth  considering 
themselves  bold  and  progressive  enough  to  have  the  right  of 
accusmg  Gothic  architects  of  the  desire  to  make  art  retrograde. 
On  the  other  hand,  Gothic  architects  have  regarded  then-  opjio- 
nents  as  rather  more  retrograde  than  themselves, — an  accusation 
which  might  pass  for  true,  since  Gothic  came  after  Boman  art. 

But  if  the  latter  (I  refer  to  the  so-called  Gothic  ai-chitects) 
manifested  ^:>?-o(//'ess  in  their  conceptions,  the  general  result 
amounted,  as  I  said  above,  to  nothing  more  than  the  substitu- 
tion of  iron  supports  or  arch-ribs  for  the  stone  piers  and  arches  of 
the  Middle  Ages.     But  there  is  no  more  progress  in  this  than 


74  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

there  is  progress  in  keeping  up  the  architraves  of  quasi-Roman 
entablatures    with   iron   bars.      Had    the    Romans,    who    were 
sensible  people,  possessed  iron  of  large  dimensions  such  as  we  can 
prociu'e,  they  would  have  adopted  original  forms  in  place  of  those 
derived  from  the  Greeks.     The  Romans  were  too  practical  not  to 
have  taken  advantage  of  these  appliances.     Similarly  the  great 
builders  of  the  Middle  Ages  who  so  clearly  adapted  their  concep- 
tions to  the  materials  they  possessed,  would  have  lost  no  time  ill 
giving  forms  to  their  architecture  suited  to  these  novel  materials. 
The  conditions  in  which  we  architects  of  the  nineteenth  century 
find  ourselves  are  different ;  preceding  ages  have  bequeathed  to 
us  two  or  three  distinct  styles  of  art,  without  reckoning  their 
derivatives.     It  is  not  in  our  power  to  ignore  them  ;  there  they 
are  present  before  us  ;  and  it  is  a  strange  and  even  absurd  fancy 
of  our  times  to  endeavour  to  obliterate  one  of  those  forms  of 
architectural  art,  and  to  declare  it  non-existent.     This  mode  of 
proceeding  has  an  unfortunate  resemblance  to  that  attributed  to 
the  Pere  Loriquet  in  making  Louis  xviii.  the  successor  of  Louis 
XVII.     It  may  be  perfectly  reasonable  to  prefer  the  architecture 
of  Rome  and  Greece  to  that  of  the  Middle  Ages ;  but  if  we 
would  advance  according  to  the  logical   order  of  progress  we 
must   accept   the  results   of  the   efforts   to  improve  made  by 
successive  generations  of  builders.     Progress  is  nothing  other 
than  the  superposition  of  efforts  to  improve,  made  with  the 
fresh  elements  originating  at  certain  periods.     Nature,  whose 
methods  are  certainly  well  deserving  of  attention,  has  not  pro- 
ceeded otherwise.    She  neither  forgets  nor  suppresses  any  portion 
of  her  past,  but  adds  and  improves.     From  the  polypus  up  to 
man  she  advances  without  interruption.     What  would  be  said 
of  the  naturalist  who  should  suppress  an  entire  order  of  organised 
beings  and  link  the  monkey  with  the  birds  under  the  pretext 
that  mammalia  of  a  lower  order  do  not  merit  attention  ?  or  who 
should  maintain  that  the  reptile  is  a  more  perfect  creature  than 
the  cat,  because  a  severer  injury  may  be  inflicted  on  the  former 
than  on  the  latter  without  causing  its  death  ? 

Because  you  might  remove  a  pillar  from  a  Roman  concrete 
structure  without  endangering  the  building,  whereas  you  could 
not  remove  a  single  stone  from  the  arch  of  a  flying  buttress  of  a 
Gothic  nave  without  insuring  its  ruin,  it  does  not  follow  that 
in  order  of  structure  the  Gothic  building  is  not  an  advance  on 
the  Roman.  The  inference  is  rather,  that  in  the  former  edifice 
each  member  is  necessary — indispensable,  because  the  structure 
is  more  perfect.  Man,  who  is  considered  the  most  perfect  of 
organised  beings,  is  far  more  susceptible  to  injury  than  most  of 
the  mammalia,  and  his  hmbs  when  cut  off  will  not  grow  again 
like  those  of  a  cray-fish.     Extreme  sensitiveness  and  delicacy 


LECTURE  XII.  75 

of  organism  are  therefore  among  the  conditions  of  progress  in 
the  order  of  creation  ;  and  it  is  the  same  with  that  secondary 
creation  which  is  produced  by  man,  and  which  is  called  building. 
The  greater  the  ingenuity  displayed  by  man  in  subjugating 
inert  matter, —  the  more  capable  he  becomes  of  bending  it  to  his 
necessities, — the  more  the  organs — if  I  may  so  term  them — of 
this  creation  must  be  essential,  delicate,  and  consequently  frugUe. 
Calculation,  new  principles  of  equilibrium,  of  coiuiterpoise,  of 
inverse  action  and  neutralising  forces, — all  then  take  the  place 
of  inert  mass,  stable  in  itself 

For  the  passive  stability  of  the  Greek  liuildings  and  the  con- 
crete structure  of  the  Romans,  the  great  builders  of  the  Middle 
Ages  substituted  equilibration, — a  more  delicate  law  affording 
more  extensive,  varied,  and  unrestricted  results.  Those  builders 
had  advanced  on  the  Greek  and  Iloman  systems  of  structure. 
With  oiu"  materials  and  the  employment  in  our  buildings  of  metal 
of  large  dimensions  we  may  advance  beyond  the  mediaeval 
builders ;  but  this  cannot  be  effected  by  ignoring  what  they  did, 
or  by  following  them  step  by  step,  but  by  starting  from  the  point 
which  they  had  reached,  and  mounting  still  higher  the  ladder 
of  progress.  Let  who  wiU  call  the  prmciples  here  enunciated 
exclusive  docti'ines,  the  accusation  will,  I  am  convinced,  i-ecoil 
on  those  who  make  it,  for  they  cannot  retard  the  advance  of  real 
progress,  and  this  will  ultimately  be  acknowledged. 

Let  us  therefore  continue  our  endeavours  ;  however  imperfect 
they  may  be,  they  will  none  the  less  show  what  a  field  is  open 
for  the  art  of  building  in  the  present  day,  and  prove  that  archi- 
tecture will  assume  an  original  form  only  when  it  shall  frankly 
adapt  itself  to  the  really  novel  and  rational  appliances  afforded 
by  our  times. 

There  are  some  who  continue  to  assert  that  Greek  architec- 
ture, being  essentially  beautiful,  lends  itself  to  every  require- 
ment. To  show  the  falseness  of  this  opinion,  it  will  suffice  to 
request  them  to  construct  vaulting  with  the  structural  system 
of  the  Greeks,  who  did  not  erect  any.  It  is  true  that  in  the 
Y\ew  of  many  amateurs,  and  even  some  artists,  the  essence  of 
Greek  architecture  consists  in  the  use  of  a  few  bits  of  ornament 
or  a  few  mouldings.  These  blind  adherents  of  Greek  culture 
seriously  believe  that  they  are  following  the  arts  of  the  age  of 
Pericles,  when  on  a  house-front  five  stories  high  they  have  copied 
a  jamb  moulding  or  a  cornice  from  Attica.  Without  enlarging 
on  these  puerilities,  we  are  compelled  to  admit  that  the  Greeks 
did  not  consider  it  worth  while  to  vault  theii-  buildings,  and  that 
to  imitate  them  in  this  respect  would  be  rather  a  step  backwards 
— that  the  Romans  built  concrete  vaulting,  and  that  the  medi- 
aeval builders  erected  a  great  deal  of  vaulting  on  an  elastic  system 


76  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

which  has  its  advantages.  These  are  facts  against  which  neither 
regrets  nor  admiration  can  prevail.  But  lioman  vaulting  re- 
quired abutments  as  well  as  that  of  the  Middle  Ages.  We  have 
shown  how  the  thrust  of  vaulting  may  be  supported  by  rron. 
The  matter  which  concerns  us  to  analyse  still  more  attentively 
is  the  appUcations  that  can  be  made  of  iron  in  vaulting  buildings, 
and  to  consider  whether  it  is  not  possible  witliout  the  aid  of  tie- 
bars  to  counteract  the  thrust  of  an  arch  by  a  combination  of  iron 
construction  with  masonry. 

Let  figure  9  represent  an  arch  of  30  feet  in  sj^an  ;  A  is  a  band 


Fio.  9.  -Combination  of  Iron  and  Masonry  Construction. — Method  of  counteracting  tho  thrust  of  an  Arch. 

of  plate-u'on  15  inches  wide,  bent  to  a  semicircle,  on  which  are 
fastened  spurs,  also  of  plate-iron  a,  2  feet  3  inches  long,  by  means 
of  brackets  h,  as  shown  in  the  drawing  B.  Two  angle-irons, 
riveted  to  the  curved  band,  serve  to  secure  the  flanges  and  to 
stifien  the  work.  If,  between  these  spurs,  we  place  voussoirs  of 
stone  c,  or  even  of  brick  e,  the  arch  cannot  give  way.  The  per- 
spective drawing  D  illustrates  the  system  of  this  iron  construc- 
tion. For  example,  suppose  e  an  arch  of  plate-iron,  to  which  are 
fixed  spurs  g  secured  by  stiff  braces /";  it  would  not  be  possible 
for  the  two  points  i,  k,  to  spread,  since  any  action  tending  to 
spread  those  points  would  only  have  the  eft'ect  of  thnisting  the 
braces  more  closely  against  each  other.     Now  the  arch  B,  partly 


LECTURE  XII.  77 

of  iron  and  partly  of  masoni-y,  is  subject  to  the  same  law.  Any 
spreading  action  results  in  a  greater  squeezing  together  of  the 
voussou-s,  and  as  the  iron  band  presents  a  continuous  surface, 
the  joints  cannot  open  at  the  intrados ;  these  joints,  therefore, 
bemg  luiable  to  open  the  arch,  cannot  give  way. 

A  giving  way  could  only  occur  through  the  stretching  of 
every  portion  of  the  arch  passing  from  the  curve  to  a  straight 
line  under  considerable  pressiu'e,  so  as  to  make  the  band  of  the 
intrados  polygonal  instead  of  cu'cular.  But  it  will  be  obsei'ved 
that  the  cui've  between  each  spur  is  hardly  apparent,  and  that, 
moreover,  it  is  stiffened  by  the  angle  iron  and  the  brackets.  It 
would,  therefore,  requii'e  a  much  greater  pi-essure  than  that 
exerted  by  ordinary  vaulting  to  produce  that  stretching  of  each 
section  of  the  circle. 

An  experimental  model  of  this  construction  may  be  con- 
structed at  small  expense  with  hoop-u-on  or  even  with  zmc,  and 
by  fitting  little  blocks  of  wood  between  the  spurs  it  will  be  easy 
to  prove  its  strength.'  An  arch  thus  constructed  costs  more  than 
an  arch  of  stone  or  brick,  but  besides  the  saving  in  the  quantity 
of  those  materials  (for  an  arch  of  that  span  might  be  safely  turned 
with  voussoirs  only  16  inches  thick),  it  is  ui  the  abutments  that 
the  real  saving  would  be  effected. 

By  adopting  this  system,  we  might  constract  transverse 
vaultmg  ribs  to  carry  gromed  vaultings  of  brick  or  rubble  work, 
siich  as  the  Roman  vaulting,  on  piers  of  veiy  small  section. 
Here  then  would  be  an  advance  as  regards  economy  of  construc- 
tion, and  the  sui'face  occupied  by  the  sohd  parts  on  the  ground. 
Now,  wliile  in  our  towns  materials  are  expensive,  space  is  re- 
stricted ;  the  builder  should  therefore  do  his  best  to  economise 
both. 

It  Tvill  be  evident  that  the  conditions  under  which  iron  is 
thus  employed  will  be  favourable  to  its  durability ;  for  though 
the  iron  spurs  are  imbedded  between  the  stone  or  brick  voussoirs, 
their  fimction  is  merely  passive,  and  depends  on  the  simple 
pressure  exerted  on  them  by  the  voussoirs.  The  band  of  the 
intrados,  the  angle-iron  and  its  brackets,  which  constitute  the 
chief  streng-th  of  the  system,  are  exposed  to  the  an-,  at  least  on 
one  face.  Besides,  the  stone  or  brick  voussoirs,  being  imder 
cover  and  beneath  the  vaulting,  cannot  give  out  moisture  or 
salts  in  sufficient  quantity  to  affect  the  duration  of  the  iron. 
But  here  we  have  only  the  adaptation  of  iron  to  an  ancient 
system  of  structure.  These  arches  have,  like  the  Roman  and 
mediaeval  arches,  the  disadvantage  previously  pomted  out ;  they 

'  An  arch  3  feet  in  span  at  the  intrados,  S  inches  by  2  inches  in  section,  formeil  of  zinc 
•without  brackets,  and  with  twelve  spurs  simply  soldered  in,  with  plaster  of  Paris  voussoirs, 
bore  a  weight  at  the  key  of  20  lbs.  without  giving  way. 


78 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


are  of  great  height  and  of  considerable  weight ;  the  Roman 
groined  vaulting  demands  expensive  centering.  When  it  is 
required  to   construct  vaulting   over  a  very  ^\^de  space — 60   or 


I 


Fig.  10. — Combination  of  Iron  and  Masonry  Construction. — Method  of  Vaulting. 

70  feet  for  instance — without  exerting  any  thrust,  not  needing 
any  considerable  amount  of  centering,  not  occupying  a  great 
height,  allowing  large  openings  for  light  at  a  lofty  elevation  above 


Fm.  11.— rian  of  Vaulting 


the  floor,  more  arcliitectural  than  the  vaultuig  given  in  figiu-es 
6,  7,  and  8,  and  in  which  iron  is  employed  merely  as  supports 
and  ties — economically,  therefore, — we  shall  have  to  resort  to 


LECTURE  XIL 


79 


contrivances  differing  from  those  adopted  by  the  Romans  or 
the  mediasval  builders. 

Let  abed,  figure  10,  be  a  frame  with  four  struts,  a  e,  d  e, 
h  f,  cf,  and  a  tie  ef.  It  is  evident  that  if  the  fi'amework  con- 
sisting of  these  pieces  be  weighted  at  the  points  ah  c  d,  no  giving 
way  will  be  possible.  It  is  on  the  principle  illustrated  by  this 
diagram  that  the  system  of  vaulting  we  are  about  to  work  out 
depends. 

Let  figure  1 1  represent  part  of  the  plan  of  a  hall  65  feet  wide 
in  the  clear,  and  consisting  of  a  series  of  bays.  If  at  a  h  c  d  we 
set  up  a  framework  designed  in  accordance  with  figure  10,  the 
lines  a  e,  d  e,  hf,  cf,  will  give  the  horizontal  projection  of  the 
supporting  struts,  the  lines  comiecting  the  points  ah  c  d  that 
of  the  frame,  and  the  line  e/that  of  the  tie.  If  we  turn  arches 
corresponding  with  the  lines  a  h,  a  d,  d  i,  h  g,  h  c,  c  h,  a  h,  d  c, 
we  shaU  have  a  cluster  of  arches  on  which  we  shall  be  able  to 
erect  the  round  dome  A,  a  square  dome  over  the  rectangular 
space  B,  and  barrel  vaults  over  the  trapeziums  /;.  a  d  i,  g  h  c  Jc. 
We  shall  be  able  to  support  the  entire  system  on  walls  of  six 
feet  in  thickness,  pierced  by  windows  and  without  buttresses. 


Fio.  12. — Combined  Iron  and  Jlaaouiy  Construction. — Section  of  Vaultiui;. 


The  section,  figure  12,  through  o  p  at  A  and  through  o  s  at 
B,  explains  this  system  ;  but  it  will  be  still  better  explained  by 
the  perspective  view  of  the  interior,  Plate  XXII.  The  supporting 
struts  or  slanting  columns  a  (see  section,  figure  12),  ai-e  of  cast- 
iron,  resting  at  b  in  shoes  likewise  of  cast-kon  connected  by  a 
tie-rod  c.    The  feet  of  these  supporting  struts  are  spheroidal,  and 


80  LECTURED  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

fit  into  two  cups  sunk  in  each  shoe.  The  tops  of  these  struts 
have  tenons  fitting  into  spheroids  e  surmounted  by  dwarf  shafts, 
which  again  tenon  into  the  cast-iron  capitals  g,  each  of  which 
carries  the  springer  of  three  arches.  The  dwarf  shafts  are  con- 
nected by  the  ties  d,  which,  with  the  arches  above  them,  form 
the  sides  of  the  frame  that  supports  the  square  dome  and  part 
of  the  cupola.  Thus  these  four  arches  with  their  tie-rods  cannot 
exert  any  thrust.  Only  the  arches  a  h,  d  i,  h  g,  c  k  (see  the 
plan,  figure  11),  could  exert  a  thrust  on  the  side  walls  ;  but  if, 
above  these  arches,  we  put  a  band  of  iron  around  the  dome,  the 
thrust,  which  is  already  very  oblique,  will  be  counteracted. 
•  The  perspective  view,  Plate  XXII.,  shows  that  the  side  walls 
may  be  perforated  with  large  windows  rising  to  the  sj^ringing 
level  of  the  vaixlting  system.  This  vaulting  cannot  push  out 
the  walls  unless  the  tie-rods  c  (see  section)  break.  But  the  pull 
on  these  rods  is  not  so  considerable  as  might  be  sujjposed,  as 
soon  as  the  structui'e  is  completed  and  has  kept  its  place. 
When  a  building  is  substantially  constructed  and  the  vaulting 
is  well  made,  the  initial  efibrt  of  thrust  produced  by  the  latter  is 
very  trifling,  and  a  slight  obstacle  sirffices  to  arrest  its  develojs- 
ment.  Supposing  the  arches  and  their  springers  to  be  of  stone, 
and  the  vaulting  of  hollow  bricks,  each  of  the  struts  will  at  most 
have  a  weight  of  15  tons  to  support.  As  a  consequence  of  the 
obliquity  of  the  strut  a  considerable  part  of  the  weight  is  divided 
vertically  down  the  walls,  the  pull  on  the  great  lower  iron  brace 
will  be  reduced  to  an  inconsiderable  action,  whose  force  may  be 
ascertained,  but  which,  allowing  for  the  weight  of  the  wall  itself 
above  the  shoes,  and  its  direct  resistance,  will  produce  an 
efiective  action  on  the  braces  equal  to  5  or  6  tons, — a  pull  which 
need  cause  no  apprehension.  A  structure  of  this  kind  would  be 
very  economical,  for  we  see  that  only  one  pattern  is  required, 
either  for  the  struts,  the  shoes,  or  the  capitals. 

On  the  scaftblding,  which  would  serve  for  fixing  the  slanting 
columns,  the  centres  (all  alike)  would  be  easily  set  up,  and  the 
vaulting,  provided  it  is  made  in  a  particular  way,  may  be  turned 
without  centering,  or  at  least  without  lagging,  as  we  shall 
explain  presently. 

This  method  of  structure  in  iron  and  masonry  fulfils  the 
conditions  which,  in  our  opinion,  shoidd  characterise  such  works. 
Thus  the  iron  framework  is  visible,  independent,  and  free  to 
expand  and  contract,  so  that  it  cannot  cause  dislocation  in  the 
masonry,  whether  through  oxidation  or  variation  in  tempera- 
ture. The  masonry,  while  concrete  in  parts,  yet  preserves  a 
certain  degree  of  elasticity,  owing  to  the  small  arches  Avhich 
carry  the  whole.  As  the  system  of  vaulting  only  takes  up  a  very 
considerable  height  in  proportir>n  to  the  width  of  the  Liiterior,  it 


LECTURE  XII.  81 

allows  of  large  windows  comparatively  elevated, — it  requires  a 
minimum  of  materials,  and  only  tliin  walls,  wliicli  (excepting 
the  points  of  support)  may  be  partly  built  of  rubble  stone ; — 
in  tlie  iron-work,  the  use  of  bolts,  which  are  liable  to  be  injured 
or  broken,  is  avoided,  bolts  bemg  employed  only  for  fastening 
the  tie-rods  to  the  braces  or  collars.  Figure  13  represents 
in  detail  at  A  one  of  the  cast-ii"on  capitals,  with  its  dwarf  shaft 
and  spheroidal  base  at  B ;  at  T  the  collar  of  the  upper  tie-rods  ; 
at  c  the  head  of  the  struts ;  at  D  the  foot  of  the  same,  and  at 
E  the  shoe,  with  the  branches  of  the  tie-rods  F  and  of  the  keys  G. 
It  will  thus  be  manifest  that  these  fastenings  are  free  to  move, 
incapable  of  causing  either  ruptures  or  dislocations,  and  that 
they  neither  occasion  trouble  in  fixing  nor  requu-e  fitting  on 
the  spot. 

It  is  evident  that  in  a  construction  of  this  kind  everything 
should  be  prepared  in  advance.  The  various  parts  of  the  work 
can  be  executed  in  manufactories  or  special  worksho^Ds,  and  be 
brought  to  the  building  ready  fitted,  so  that  they  can  be  raised 
into  place  without  further  trouble. 

A  serious  difficulty  to  be  considered  in  building  in  the  present 
day  is  that  of  yard  space.  Space  has  become  so  valuable  in  our 
23opidous  towns  that  it  would  seem  desu-able  to  seek  the  requisite 
means  for  lessening  as  much  as  possible  the  area  of  these  yards. 
For  the  masonry  especially  the  custom  of  bringing  to  a  building 
blocks  of  uncut  stone,  in  which  the  stone-dresser  has  to  find  all 
the  pieces  requii'ed  for  the  building,  entails  the  inconvenience 
of  accumulating  an  enormous  quantity  of  stone  in  pure  waste, 
as  the  quantity  wtH  be  lessened  in  the  workmg.  Since  the  stone 
is  charged  for  according  to  the  number  of  cubic  feet  supplied, 
and  the  carriage  according  to  weight,  it  is  clear  that  as  from  each 
block  of  stone  a  fom-th  or  fifth  of  its  quantity  is  cut  away  before 
the  fixing,  so  many  useless  cubic  feet  of  stone  have  to  be  paid 
for  as  well  as  the  cost  of  its  carriage,  which  pi-ofits  no  one,  and 
for  which  the  builder  has  to  be  indemnified.  This  needless  outlay 
paid  to  the  builder  at  the  works  has  gone  to  pay  part  of  the 
dues  entailed  and  part  of  the  expense  of  carriage.  The  cost 
of  the  stone  used  therefore  includes  in  addition  to  its  actual 
value  that  of  the  waste  and  the  carriage  of  the  waste. 

If  the  size  and  shape  of  the  stones,  especially  in  the  case  of 
large  buildings,  were  completely  specified  by  the  architect  when 
giving  the  plans  to  the  builder,  the  latter  might  order  a  great 
part  of  his  stone  from  the  quarries  cut  to  shape,  and  thus  would 
not  be  oljhged  to  rent  and  occupy  such  large  yard-spaces.  It 
would  be  a  saving  to  him,  and  a  proportionately  less  outlay 
would  be  incurred  by  the  Government  and  individuals. 

If  in  slight  masonry  work,  such,  e.g.,  as  vaulting,  certain 

VOL.  n.  K 


82 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


Fig.  13.— Combined  Iron  and  Masonry  Construction.— Details  of  the  Iron-work. 


LECTURE  XII.  83 

methods  were  adopted  whicli  would  obviate  the  necessity  of 
having  on  the  ground  a  stock  of  materials  in  the  rough, — if  the 
parts  of  these  slight  structures  came  from  a  manufactory  ready 
to  be  fixed, — a  still  greater  saving  woidd  be  effected  in  the  raising, 
the  workmanship,  and  the  time.  Improvements  in  the  art  of 
building  should  be  manifested  in  the  savmg  of  time,  space,  and 
labour,  such  as  that  expended  in  hoisting  materials,  only  a  part 
of  which  will  enter  into  the  structure.  What  is  the  use,  for 
instance,  of  carrying  up  water  to  a  height  of  GO  feet  when  a 
considerable  part  of  the  water  may  be  used  on  the  ground  or  in 
a  workshop  ?  What  greater  waste  of  labour  could  there  be  than 
is  expended  in  tempermg  plaster  or  cement  on  the  ground  in 
troughs  which  have  then  to  be  carried  by  the  mason's  labourer 
to  the  top  of  the  building  ?  How  much  time  and  labour  lost ! 
how  much  occasion  for  detriment  through  damage,  accident,  and 
carelessness ! 

Let  us  then  see  how,  in  vaidting  especially,  some  labour 
and  preliminary  operations  now  considered  necessary  might  be 
avoided,  with  a  consequent  lessening  of  expense.  Besides 
plaster  of  Paris,  which,  used  inside,  is  an  excellent  material,  we 
have  cements  and  concrete  moulded  or  agglomerated,  with  which 
large  portions  of  vaidting  may  be  prepared  beforehand  in  work- 
shops to  the  required  shape,  imder  the  best  conditions,  with 
every  facility  of  control,  so  as  to  be  easily  raised  and  readily 
fixed,  at  a  quite  moderate  cost.  Our  present  method  of  vaulting 
requires  a  system  of  timber  centering  on  which  are  laid  boards 
representing  the  convex  form  of  the  vault.  This  preparatory 
wood-work,  which  will  have  subsequently  to  be  taken  away, 
involves  considerable  expense.  The  Romans  employed  the  same 
method.  On  those  wooden  forms  they  turned  brick  arches 
whose  mterspaces  they  filled  in  with  couci-ete  rammed  close, 
and  thus  they  made  vaultmg  of  wide  span.  The  great  builders 
of  the  Middle  Ages  fixed  up  wood  centres  for  the  transverse  and 
diagonal  vaulting-ribs  on  which  by  means  of  moveable  curves 
they  built  the  soffits.^  This  latter  method  was  a  step  in 
advance  m  lessening  the  quantity  of  timber-work  required  for 
vaulting  on  the  Roman  plan.  But  we  are  not  bound  to  adliere 
to  these  methods  ;  we  should  only  retain  what  is  advantageous  in 
them,  and  seek  for  better  ones,  if  possible.  Plate  XXII.  shows 
several  fonns  of  vaulting  employed  at  the  same  time  for  covering 
an  interior.  On  the  scaffolding  that  will  have  served  for  fixing 
the  cast-iron  stinits,  we  are  obliged  to  place  centres  (all  made 
to  the  same  pattern)  to  receive  the  stone  arches ;  but  for  the 
cupolas  we   can   dispense   with  the  complicated  and  cumber- 

1  See  the  explanation  of  thia  method  in  the  Dictionnaire  raisonne  de  P Architecture 
Fran^aise,  article  Construction. 


84  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

some  timber-work  usually  set  up  for  that  form  of  vaulting  at  so 
much  expense  of  time  and  money. 

The  Oriental  builders  have  a  very  simple  method  for  making 
spheroidal  cupolas.  They  fix  one  end  of  a  wooden  rod  to  the 
centre  of  the  spheroid,  so  that  it  can  be  moved  round  as  a  radius 
in  every  direction,  and  with  this  guide  they  successively  lay  in 
plaster  the  bricks  which  form  the  concavity.  Each  arch  of 
bricks,  or  rather  each  horizontal  section  of  the  sphere,  forms  a 
rmg  which  cannot  give  way,  and  the  workmen  are  thus  enabled 
to  close  in  the  vault.  It  stands  to  reason  however  that  this  plan 
can  only  be  adopted  for  cupolas  of  inconsiderable  radius,  and 
that  it  must  be  tedious  in  execution.  This  method  is  neverthe- 
less good  in  certain  cases,  and  might  be  advantageously  apphed 
in  an  improved  form,  as  for  instance  by  employing  several  of 
these  moveable  rods  attached  at  foot  to  an  iron  or  even  a  wooden 
axle  having  as  many  grooves  as  there  are  rods.  But  for  a  dome 
of  65  feet  in  diameter  at  the  base,  and  whose  radius  is  45  feet,  Hke 
that  represented  in  the  section  figure  1 2,  the  plan  above  described 
could  not  be  used.  By  means  however  of  a  novel  system  of 
masonry  the  cost  incurred  by  centering  may  be  greatly  reduced. 


Fig.  14.--Metliod  of  vaulting:  a  Dome. 


Suppose  a  dome  65  feet  in  diameter  at  the  base,  whose 
circumference  at  the  base  will  consequently  be  195  feet;  we 
divide  this  circumference  into  sixty  j^arts,  and  making  a  templet 
of  a  slice  of  the  dome  thvis  divided,  we  cut  this  slice  into  a 
certain  number  of  panels,  as  shown  in  the  perspective  drawing, 
fig.  14.  Nothing  can  be  easier,  especially  if  we  have  several  of 
these  domes  to  cover  in,  than  to  have  made  in  a  workshop, 
moulded  in  plaster  of  Paris  or  pressed  concrete,  the  requisite 
quantity  of  these  panels.  According  to  our  figure,  there  would  be 
only  seven  different  patterns  of  panels ;  and  if  sixty  be  required 
for  the  lower  zone  a  similar  number  will  also  be  necessary  for 
each  (of  the  zones). 


LECTURE  XII. 


85 


These  panels,  prepared  iii  advance,  even  in  winter,  and 
sufficiently  dried,  may  be  raised  into  place  like  voussoirs  and  set 
with  plaster  of  Paris  or  cement.  Each  zone  as  it  is  set,  forms  a 
concentric  ring  which  cannot  give  way,  and  the  next  may  be 
immediately  superposed.  It  need  not  be  added  that  the  panels 
may  be  moulded  into  sunk  compartments,  so  as  to  form  an 
interior  decoration. 

The  centering  for  a  dome  thus  covered  in  by  means  of 
moulded  panels  will  not  need  planking,  as  each  panel  presents  a 
solid  surface.  All  that  is  needed  therefore  is  thu-ty  centres  or 
sixty  half-centres  under  the  ascending  joints.  For  the  fixing  of 
these  centres  u'on  is  very  advantageous,  smce  as  that  material 
retains  its  value  it  may  be  afterwards  employed  for  other  pur- 


15 


Fio.  15.  -Method  of  centering  for  Vaulted  Dome. 

poses,  or  be  exchanged  when  the  work  is  completed.  If  therefore, 
fig.  15,  we  fix  up  a  circle  of  T-iron  or  even  cast-iron  at  A,  and 
another  circle  of  angle-iron  at  B ;  if  as  an  extra  pi-ecaution  we  tie 
this  lower  circle  with  fifteen  tie-rods  c,  bolted  to  a  rmg  d  ;  then 
between  the  flanges  of  the  upper  circle  and  the  flange  of  the 
lower  circle  it  will  suffice  to  fix  sixty  timber  blades  e,  with  wood 
curves  and  cUps,  which  will  stiffen  them  and  serve  for  setting 
the  panels  ;  the  ascending  joints  of  the  latter  being  over  each  of 
the  centres.  If  instead  of  the  lower  cu-cle  we  put  a  polygon  of 
sixty  sides  of  plate-iron,  jointed  at  every  second  angle  with 
rivet  plates,  as  sho-\\m  in  detail  G,  we  may  dispense  with  the  tie- 
rods. 


86  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

Each  panel  will  avei'age  only  one  and  a  half  cubic  feet,  and 
will  therefore  weigh  only,  if  in  pressed  concrete,  about  two  cwt., 
or  in  dried  plaster  of  Paris  about  one  and  a  half  cwt.  Their 
number  being  420,  the  total  weight  of  the  dome,  65  feet  wide  at 
the  base  and. with  a  rise  of  15  feet,  would  in  pressed  concrete  be 
only  4 1  tons,  and  in  plaster  of  Paris  only  34  tons.  The  eight 
points  of  support  of  this  dome  would  therefore  have  only  a 
weight  of  four  or  five  tons  to  support. 

Any  action  of  thrust  may  be  easily  obviated  by  a  circlet  of 
iron  at  H  (see  fig.  15).  Still,  these  appliances  do  not  constitute 
a  novel  system  of  structure.  Here  we  have  only  kon  supports 
in  place  of  stone  ones,  and  methods  for  executing  ordinary  forms 
of  vaulting  by  means  of  economical  expedients  not  in  ordinary 
use.  Iron  does  not  enter  into  the  structural  principle  of  the 
vaulting,  while  its  dimensions  do  not  exceed  those  which  are 
customary  in  our  largest  vaulted  buildings.  Nevertlieless  the 
necessity  for  still  larger  spaces  than  those  afforded  by  any 
builduigs  of  the  past  ages  is  becoming  more  and  more  manifest. 
Nowhere  are  our  city  halls  sufficiently  vast  for  the  crowded 
meetings  that  sometimes  gather  in  them.  It  has  happened,  for 
instance,  that  the  places  appropriated  to  popular  concerts  in  Paris 
have  not  afibrded  room  for  half  the  persons  who  wished  to  get 
in.  The  Palais  de  Vlndustiie  and  the  railway  terminuses  are 
merely  glazed  sheds.  They  are  not  enclosed,  comfortable  build- 
ings, capable  of  being  warmed.  These  interiors  cannot  possess 
the  resonance  which  is  sometimes  requisite.  Draughts  enter 
fi*om  every  side,  and  the  cooling  surfaces  are  considerable.  I 
repeat  it  therefore  :  buildings  of  masonry  ofier  advantages  which 
those  constructed  solely  of  iron  and  glass  do  not  afibrd.  If  we 
examine  the  Roman  buildings,  which  are  in  masonry,  we  see  that 
the  largest  of  them  do  not  present  interior  spaces  of  very  con- 
siderable dimensions. 

For  example,  the  great  circular  hall  of  the  Baths  of  Antoninus 
Caracalla  at  Rome  has  a  diameter  of  only  82  feet  in  the  clear. 
The  great  cupola  of  St.  Sophia  at  Constantinople  measures  but 
100  feet,  and  that  of  St.  Peter's  at  Rome  only  30  feet  more. 
Considering  the  mass  of  material  employed  to  obtain  these 
results,  which  even  now  appear  prodigious,  it  will  not  be 
wondered  at  that  we  do  not  venture  to  attempt  them,  in  view 
of  the  enormous  expense  they  occasion. 

If  the  use  of  iron  in  building  does  not  enable  us  to  exceed 
these  dimensions  at  a  decidedly  less  cost,  then  indeed  we  are 
inferior  to  our  ancestors.  In  fact  the  great  builders  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  like  those  of  the  Renaissance,  were  eminently  men 
of  subtle,  active,  and  mventive  intellect.  I  say  inventive  intel- 
lect, for  that  is  the  ruling  characteristic  of  the  works  bequeathed 


LECTURE  XII.  87 

to  us  by  those  old  builders.  It  is  apparent  in  the  structure  of 
om-  medifBval  buildings,  and  only  ceases  to  manifest  itself  when 
the  material  becomes  inadequate.  It  is  apparent  in  the  attempts  of 
the  Renaissance ;  for,  apart  from  the  superficial  imitation  of  classic 
forms  which  the  architects  of  the  latter  period  affected,  they  did 
not  adhere  to  tliis  imitation  in  the  construction  of  their  buildings 
and  in  the  methods  they  employed.  Without  reference  to  the 
buildings  of  that  epoch,  we  may  find  the  proof  of  this  fact  in  the 
wi'itten  works  of  several  of  those  architects,  such  as  Albert  Durer, 
Serho,  Philibert  de  I'Orme,  etc.  On  every  page  of  their  writings 
we  find  some  original  idea,  or  new  adaptation ;  and  as  in  the  case 
of  their  predecessors,  their  ingenuity  is  circumscribed  only  by  the 
inadequacy  of  their  materials.  Have  we  in  the  present  day 
reached  or  even  endeavoured  to  reach  such  a  limit  ?  I  think  not. 
In  their  great  bridge-constructions  our  engmeers  have  resolutely 
struck  out  a  new  path  ;  but  our  architects  have  hitherto  ventured 
no  further  than  a  timid  adaptation  of  novel  apphances  to  old  forms. 
Sparing  themselves  the  trouble  of  calculating,  inventing,  and 
contriving,  under  the  pretext  that  such  inventings,  calculations, 
and  contrivances  are  opposed  to  the  formulas  they  have  adopted, 
they  prefer  to  exist  on  a  past  that  is  crumbUng  beneath  their 
feet,  and  which  will  drag  them  along  with  it  in  its  ultimate 
downfall.  Amid  a  social  condition  in  which  everything  is  chang- 
ing with  surprising  rapidity,  they  alone,  as  if  they  were  the 
sacerdotal  guardians  of  a  sacred  doctrine,  set  themselves  in 
opposition  to  progress  in  their  works ;  while  the  greater  part 
even  of  the  most  capable  exclude  from  their  investigations  a 
considerable  section  of  those  architectviral  monuments  of  the 
past  which  might  lead  to  new  discoveries. 

And  yet  tliis  regard  for  so-called  system  is  after  all  nothing 
other  than  a  mass  of  prejudices  that  have  been  maintained 
among  us  for  barely  two  centuries.  That  public  which  is  always 
complaining  of  the  erection  of  buildings  which  suit  neither  its 
wants  nor  its  wishes,  which  asks  for  originahty,  and  asserts  that 
it  is  bemg  ruined  by  the  erection  of  buildings  whose  purpose 
it  cannot  comprehend,  sometimes  prides  itself  on  a  false  classic 
taste. 

It  is  time  however  for  our  architects  to  think  of  the  future  ; 
it  is  time  we  set  ourselves  to  work  to  invent  like  our  ancestors, 
and  to  regard  what  has  been  accomplished  in  the  past  as  only  a 
series  of  advances  by  which  we  should  profit,  and  which  we 
should  analyse  in  order  to  advance  stUl  further ;  it  is  time 
to  think  of  the  paramount  question  of  economy  in  building, 
if  we  would  not  soon  see  the  pubhc,  weary  of  paying  without 
obtaining  anything  that  thoroughly  satisfies  its  requirements, 
applying  to  persons  who  are  indifferent  to  aesthetics,  but  who 


88  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

can  construct  and  contrive  in  harmony  -with  the  spirit  of  the 

We  who  are  in  mid  career  may  not  hope  to  become  the  origin- 
ators of  a  new  architecture,  but  we  ought  according  to  our 
abihty  to  prepare  the  ground,  and  with  the  knowledge  of  all 
the  ancient  methods  and  the  aid  they  can  give  us, — not  of  some 
only,  to  the  exclusion  of  others, — seek  new  adaptations  m  har- 
mony with  the  materials  and  the  means  we  have  at  command. 
Progress  always  consists  in  passing  from  the  known  to  the 
unknown,  through  successive  transformations  of  methods.  It  is 
not  by  fits  and  starts  that  progress  takes  place,  but  by  a  series 
of  transitions.  Let  us  therefore  conscientiously  endeavour  to 
prepare  for  these  transitions,  and  so  far  froin  losing  sight  of  the 
past  let  us  rise  above  it  by  building  upon  it. 

It  is  solely  from  this  point  of  view  that  the  examples  given 
in  the  present  Lecture  should  be  regarded.  I  am  not  vain 
enougli  to  think,  or  to  wish  it  to  be  thought,  that  I  have  origin- 
ated an  entirely  novel  system  of  construction  which  would 
introduce  a  new  style  of  architecture.  I  furnish  my  quota  ;  my 
sole  pretension  is  to  point  out  methods  enabling  us  to  adopt  the 
appliances  with  which  our  age  supphes  us.  If  every  architect 
for  his  part  does  the  same,  while  duly  respecting  classic  and 
mediseval  art,  especially  by  analysing  their  remains,  we  shall 
witness  the  creation  of  that  architecture  of  our  time,  whose 
advent  the  public  caUs  for,  but  which  our  time  will  fail  to  give 
us  if  we  continue  to  reproduce  the  arts  of  the  past,  without 
considering  the  conditions  under  which  they  were  produced  and 
the  elements  amid  which  they  originated. 

The  series  of  examples  given  in  this  Lecture  suggests  the 
method  which  it  would  appear  ought  to  be  adopted  in  pui-suance 
of  these  endeavours.  We  started  with  familiar  contrivances, 
gradually  modifying  them,  or  rather  applying  new  elements  to 
them.  We  shall  now  attempt  to  enter  more  fully  upon  the 
employment  of  novel  materials,  and  to  deduce  therefrom  certain 
general  forms  of  construction  under  novel  conditions. 

To  obtain  the  largest  space  possible  with  the  least  amount 
of  solid  is  certainly  the  jiroblem  that  has  had  to  be  solved  by 
every  style  of  architecture,  when  it  has  been  necessary  to  build 
for  the  public.  The  crowd  did  not  enter  the  Greek  temples ; 
and,  as  I  previously  mentioned,  the  citizens  of  the  small  republics 
of  Greece  assembled  only  in  unroofed  enclosures.  While  the 
Romans  were  the  fii'st  to  construct  buildings  in  which  great 
numbers  were  able  to  assemble  mider  cover,  the  mediseval 
builders,  in  working  out  a  similar  problem,  endeavoured  to  reduce 
as  much  as  possible  the  quantity  of  masonry.  The  materials 
which  they  possessed  did  not  however  permit  them  to  exceed  a 


LECTURE  XII.  89 

certain  limit,  since  these  large  buildings  had  to  be  vaulted.  As 
they  were  not  able  to  employ  wrought-  or  cast-iron  of  consider- 
able dimensions,  it  was  only  by  contrivances  of  masoniy, — a 
system  of  equilibrium  of  thrust  and  counterthrust, — that  they 
succeeded  in  erecting  spacious  buildings  such  as  our  great 
cathedrals.  But  we  possess  those  apphances  which  were  want- 
ing to  them.  Iron  allows  feats  of  construction  hitherto  un- 
attempted,  provided  that  material  is  employed  with  due  regard 
to  its  nature.  It  is,  I  say  once  more,  not  the  erection  of  market 
halls  or  railway  stations  that  is  in  question,  but  covering  in 
with  masonry  spaces  that  shall  be  amply  lighted,  and  present 
those  arrangements  for  salubrity  and  durability  which  our  chmate 
demands. 

Solid  bodies  such  as  polyhedrons,  consisting  of  plane  sm-faces, 
appear  to  suggest  the  elementaiy  forms  applicable  to  the  struc- 
ture of  mingled  iron  and  masonry  where  vaulting  is  m  question. 
The  natm-e  of  the  metal  and  the  forms  m  which  it  can  be 
manufactured  do  not  favour  the  construction  of  iron  arches, 
whether  by  means  of  plates  riveted,  or  of  trapeziums  of  cast  or 
wrought  iron  bolted  together. 

Thus  fashioned,  iron  framing  becomes  expensive,  and  only 
answers  the  purpose  to  which  it  is  appUed  by  being  made  exces- 
sively strong,  so  as  to  prevent  its  bending  or  breaking.  But  if 
we  regard  plate-iron  as  a  material  specially  adapted  for  resisting 
tension,  if  the  masonry  in  conjunction  with  it  be  so  combined  as 
to  prevent  distortion  of  the  iron-work,  if  we  consider  iron  as  easy 
to  employ  and  connect  in  straight  pieces  ;  and  if  of  these  separate 

/5 


FiQ.  16.— Iron  and  filasonry.— Vaulting  of  large  Spaces. 

■  * 

pieces  we  form  a  kind  of  independent  network,  and  on  this  net- 
work of  girders  we  rest  the  vaulting  in  separate  parts,  we  shall 
thus  have  contrived  a  system  of  iron  framework  consistent  with 
the  nature  of  the  material,  and  a  method  for  covermg  wide 
spaces  by  means  of  a  series  of  distinct  vaults.  Let  figure  1(5 
represent  a  polyhedron  capable  of  being  inscribed  within  a  hemi- 
sphere, and  consisting  of  regular  sides  forming  octagons,  hexagons, 


90 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


so 


Fig.  17.— Iron  and  Masonry.— Vaulting  of  large  Spaces. 


LECTURE  XII.  91 

and  squares.  It  is  evident  that  if  we  set  up  a  framework  of  iron, 
in  accordance  with  the  lines  of  this  figure,  we  shall  obtain  a 
perfectly  strong  network,  and  that  we  shall  be  able  to  cover  the 
various  parts  of  this  network  with  portions  of  vaulting.  Startmg 
from  this  simple  principle,  let  us  suppose  that  we  have  to  vault 
a  large  concert-haU — for  example — capable  of  containing,  inclu- 
sive of  galleries,  about  3000  persons.  The  plan  a,  figure  17, 
will  meet  these  requirements.  At  a  we  shall  have  a  vestibule 
for  persons  arriving  on  foot,  at  h  vestibules  for  those  coming 
in  carriages,  at  c  stall's  leading  up  to  the  galleries.  The  hall, 
exclusive  of  the  projections  e,  will  have  an  interior  width 
of  140  feet  in  both  ways,  and  a  superficial  area  of  more 
than  6500  feet.  At/y'/yy/// is  drawn  the  plan  of  the  poly- 
hedron shown  in  figure  16,  and  at  B  is  represented  the  section 
across  g  h. 

The  framework  of  the  iron  polyhedron  will  rest  on  eight 
cast-hon  columns,  which  direct  the  weight  on  the  oblique  struts 
?'.  These  struts  will  also  support  the  galleries  k.  The  walls  of 
the  four  projections  will  sustain  the  thrust  of  the  whole  system, — 
thrusts  which  are,  however,  reduced  to  a  very  slight  action. 
These  projections  will  be  vaulted  (as  shown  in  section  c  across 
0  p)  on  plate  girders  s,  so  as  not  to  exert  any  thrust  against  the 
gables.  It  will  be  remarked  that  every  rectihneal  member 
of  the  framework  is  of  equal  length — a  length  of  about  28  feet 
for  the  polyhedron  as  well  as  the  other  parts  of  the  vaulting. 
We  shall  consider  the  form  of  these  members  and  their  orna- 
mentation when  we  come  to  treat  more  specially  of  smith's 
work. 

The  appearance  of  this  structure  is  exhibited  in  figure  18. 
Owing  to  the  strength  afforded  by  the  iron  network,  the  portions 
of  vaulting  may  be  made  of  light  material  and  be  of  slight  thick- 
ness. We  see  that  these  portions  of  vaulting,  in  the  spaces  of 
the  iron  network,  are  divided  with  ribs  which  might  be  made 
either  of  terra-cotta  or  freestone,  and  that  the  intermediate 
spaces  will  be  easily  filled  in  either  with  potteiy  or  with  hollow 
bricks,  flatways,  or  even  with  moulded  material  in  sections,  as  pre- 
viously described.  The  centermg  of  these  vaults  coidd  be  fixed 
on  the  framework  itself,  which  remams  independent  and  visible 
below  the  vaults,  and  which  only  supports  them  at  the  points 
where  the  dividing  ribs  abut.  The  largest  space  to  be  vaulted 
is  that  of  the  central  octagon,  6  8  feet  in  diameter,  whose  weight, 
however,  is  lessened  by  the  circular  opening  at  the  top.  The 
hexagonal  spaces  are  only  50  feet  from  angle  to  angle,  and  theu- 
oblique  position  causes  the  weight  of  their  vaults  to  be  directed 
on  the  cast-iron  columns.  Fully  to  illustrate  the  execution  of 
this  system  of  construction  would  require  an  amount  of  detail 


92 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


Fig.  is.— Iron  and  Masoiiry.— Vaulting  of  large  Spaces. 


LECTURE  XII.  93 

for  whicli  we  liave  not  space  here  ;^  moreover,  I  have  no  idea  of 
giving,  in  this  example,  anything  more  than  one  of  the  rational 
adaptations  of  the  simultaneous  employment  of  iron  and  masoniy  ; 
— of  simply  indicating  the  direction  our  elForts  should  take  if  we 
would  get  out  of  the  routine  to  which  architectm-e  is  confined, 
and  seriously  adopt  iron  in  our  large  buUdings  otherwise  than 
as  a  mere  makesliifb  or  a  dissimulated  means  of  construc- 
tion. 

If  we  examine  natural  crystals,  for  instance,  we  shall  find 
configurations  the  best  adapted  for  vaulting  of  mingled  iron  and 
masonry.  Most  of  the  polyhedrons  produced  by  crystallisation 
present  arrangements  of  planes  which  not  only  enable  us  to  use 
gu-der  u"ons  of  large  size  for  covering  considerable  spaces,  but 
likewise  shapes  whose  appearance  will  be  very  pleasing.  When 
the  employment  of  novel  materials  is  in  question,  we  must  not 
overlook  anything  that  might  be  suggestive ;  we  must  seek  every- 
where for  guidance,  but  especially  amid  those  principles  of  the 
natm-al  creation  with  wliich  we  camiot  make  ourselves  too 
familiar  if  we  are  to  origmate  in  our  turn. 

Suppose  we  had  to  .  erect  an  edifice  of  these  dimensions,  and 
that  we  covered  in  this  enormous  space  by  means  of  the 
structural  method  adopted  by  the  Roman  architects  or  even  by 
those  of  the  Middle  Ages,  we  could  easily  estimate  the  area  it 
would  be  necessary  to  give  to  the  solid  parts  relatively  to  the 
voids,  in  order  to  sustain  a  vaulting  of  masonry  exceeding  by  50 
feet  the  dome  of  St.  Sophia  at  Constantinople.  It  is  no  exagger- 
ation to  say  that  such  an  area  woidd  be  at  least  three  times  as 
great  as  that  given  in  our  plan.  Would  it  be  even  possible  to 
build  a  spheroidal  vault  of  these  dimensions  of  masonry  on 
pendentives  ?  It  has  never  been  attempted.  "  But,"  it  will  be 
objected,  "  what  proofs  can  you  furnish  of  the  stability  of  the 
system  indicated  here  ?  It  is  merely  hypothetical ;  granting  its 
ingenuity,  you  give  us  no  experimental  proof  of  its  practicability." 
As  it  is  not  in  my  power  to  build  a  hall  of  these  dimensions  to 
prove  the  excellence  of  this  system,  I  can  only  mamtain  it  by 
reasoning. 

First  remark  that  the  main  vault, — that  which  replaces  the 
masonry  dome  of  a  cupola  on  pendentives, — stands  at  a  dis- 
tance of  18  to  20  feet  clear  withui  the  masomy  supports; 
that  the  u-on  framework  of  this  central  vault  consists  of  members 
all  equal  to  each  other,  having  similar  jimctions,  and  all  formmo-, 
at  the  meeting  of  these  members,  a  pyramid  of  like  angles  ;  that 
consequently,  were  there  no  fastenings,  these  members  so 
abut   together  as   not    to   allow   of  their   pyi-amidal   summits 

'  We  shall  have  occasion  to  consider  some  of  these  details,  especially  as  rewards  the 
joints,  when  we  come  to  treat  specially  of  heavy  ^vrought  work. 


.94  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

giving  way ;  that  these  rectilineal  members,  surmovinted  by 
arches  of  masonry  carrying  the  soffits  of  the  vaults,  are  main- 
tained rigid  and  cannot  become  distorted  ;  that  their  expansion 
is  imrestrained,  since  each  mesh  of  the  network  is  surmounted 
by  a  vault  that  is  independent  of  its  neighbour  ;  that  moreover 
the  total  weight  of  the  vaults  I'esting  on  the  central  polyhedron 
does  not  exceed  375  tons ;  for  the  developed  surface  of  these 
vaults  (of  the  central  polyhedron  only)  is  at  most  1600  yards, 
and  calculating  the  superficial  yard  of  these  vaults,  includ- 
ing the  ribs,  at  4^  cwt.,  we  are  rather  above  than  under  the 
actual  weight.  If  to  this  we  add  the  weight  of  the  iron,  about 
43  tons  2  cwt.,  we  have  for  the  entire  weight  of  the  central 
polyhedron,  iron  and  stone,  418  tons  2  cwt.  Each  of  the  eight 
columns  therefore  supports  a  weight  of  52  tons  5i  cwt.,  to  which 
should  be  added  a  portion  of  the  weight  of  the  lateral  vaulting, 
which  will  raise  the  weight  on  each  column  to  at  most  60  tons. 
It  is  easy  enough  to  cast  columns  able  to  support  the  pressure. 
But  these  columns  rest  on  struts  leaning  at  an  angle  of  45°, 
wliich  however  are  only  20  feet  in  length.  The  buUder's  chief 
consideration  therefore  should  be  directed  to  these  oblique 
supports.  Theii"  thrast  is  to  a  great  extent  neutralised  by  the 
walls  of  the  projections,  and  by  the  weight  which  bears  on  the 
interior  summits  of  these  walls.  AU  that  remains  to  be  done, 
therefore,  is  to  insure  the  strength  of  the  braces  which  at  their 
capitals  hold  the  inclined  columns  in  position.  These  braces  will 
be  of  considerable  strength,  since  they  can  be  dovibled  or  quad- 
rupled in  the  height  of  the  balustrade  of  the  galleries.  The 
central  vaulting,  firmly  maintained  by  the  horizontal  stays  placed 
between  it  and  strongly  abutting  masonry,  and  by  the  lateral 
vaults,  cannot  give  in  any  direction.  The  iron  framework 
remams  independent  everywhere,  and  merely  forms  as  it  were 
the  strings  of  bows  in  masonry.  The  jomts  may  safely  remain 
slctch  so  as  not  to  hinder  the  expansion,  since  the  whole  system 
of  the  framework  consists  in  the  combination  of  pieces,  which, 
where  there  are  no  supports,  always  form  the  apex  of  a  pyramid. 
Allowing  for  some  movement  in  so  extensive  a  structvu'e  it 
could  not  produce  any  mischief  The  vaults,  independent  of 
one  another,  like  the  surfaces  of  the  Gothic  groined  vaulting, 
are  so  constituted  as  to  give  with  any  movement  without  occa- 
sioning fractures  or  dislocations.  If  economy  were  a  para- 
moimt  consideration,  it  would  be  possible  to  confine  the 
dressed  stone-work  to  the  angles  of  the  perimeter ;  all  the  rest, 
and  particularly  the  great  spandrils  of  the  four  transepts, 
might  be  buUt  of  rubble-work,  with  relieving  arches  of  stone 
or  brick. 

The  quantity  of  dressed  stone  for  the  hall,  exclusive  of  the 


LECTURE  XIl. 


95 


accessory  buildings,  would  be  135,800  cubic  feet,  and  r 
the  cubic  foot  at  3s.  we  obtain  a  sum  of      .         .         . 
The  quantity  of  brickwork  would  be  1960  cubic 

yards,  which  at  45s.  per  yard  woidd  amount 

to 

The  quantity  of  rubble  walling  would  be  36,650 

cubic  yards  deducting  for  the  openings,  at  8s. 

per  yard,         .         .         .         ... 

The  stone  arches  of  the  vaidts  would  measure  3380 

feet,    which,   at   12s.   the  lineal  foot,  would 

amount  to     .....  . 

The  total  superficial  area  of  the  vaiUting  sofiits 

includuig   those   of  the  galleries,   would  be 

10,070    yards,    at    8s.    the   superficial   yard 

centering  included,        .... 
The  cost  of  scaffolding  would  be  . 
The  weight  of  the  iron- work  would  be  1 1 0  tons,  at 

42s.  the  c\\t.,        ..... 
The  weight  of  ironwork  in  the  outer  roofing  would 

be  75  tons,  at  42s.  the  cwt., 
The  outer  roof  would  measure  5680  yards,  which 

at  an  aver'age  price  of  9s.  per  superficial  yard 

including  lead  gutters,  woidd  cost 
The  u'on-work  for  the  windows  would  weigh  35 

tons,  at  42s.  the  cwt.,  .... 
The  glazing  woidd  cost         .... 
The  plastering  and  dressing  down, 
The  floors,  including  that  of  the  galleries, 
Simdry  works,   such  as  fine   blacksmith's  work 

ironmongery,  joiner's  work,  and  painting, 
Add  to  these  amounts  the  cost  of  the  annexes 

entrances,  stairs,  etc.,    .... 
That  of  the  foundations,  cellars,  and  heating. 

Total,  .... 

Adding  for  unforeseen  extra  works,  commission 
and  salaries,  ten  per  cent. 


The  entire  cost  will  be 


eckoning 
£20,370 

4,410 

14,660 

2,028 


4,028 
3,200 

4,840 

3,300 

2,546 

1,540 
1,400 

1,800 
2,000 

3,000 

9,600 
10,000 


£88,722 

8,872 

£97,594 


Now  as  the  whole  area  is  about  51,120  square  feet,  the  cost 
would  not  reach  £2  per  superficial  foot.  Allowing  that  we  have 
under-estimated  the  cost  by  one-thii-d,  and  that  the  total  outlay 
reached  £150,000,  the  cost  would  still  be  considerably  below 
that  which  a  structiu-e  of  such  large  proportions  and  monu- 
mental character  usually  requires. 


96  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

Even  supposing  the  walling  of  the  hall  and  its  accessories 
to  be  entu-ely  built  of  dressed  stone,  the  cost  would  not 
amount  to  £4  per  superficial  foot.  Now  we  need  not  be  reminded 
of  what  our  large  public  buildings  have  cost  in  oi'der  to  see  the 
advantage  to  be  derived,  in  point  of  economy  and  rapidity  of 
execution,  from  employing  simultaneously  iron  and  masonry  in 
our  public  bviilduags ;  especially  when  these  buildings  are  intended 
to  contain  a  large  number  of  persons,  and  to  afibrd  them  ample 
free  spaces  covered  by  vaulting,  and  therefore  unaffected  by 
atmospheric  changes. 

An  element  in  the  builder's  art  which  now  requires  para- 
mount consideration  is  that  of  economy.  Architects  as  well  as 
engineers  are  accused  of  unscrupulously  exceeding  their  esti- 
mates. It  is  evident  however  that  as  the  estimates  are  propor- 
tioned to  the  intended  outlay,  the  excess  of  cost  creates  embar- 
rassments and  is  a  cause  of  continual  annoyance.  This  matter 
is  one  of  great  difBculty,  and  requires  careful  exammation. 

Our  directors  of  public  works  content  themselves  with  deter- 
mining Hsts  of  prices  according  to  the  nature  of  the  work,  and 
receivhig  tenders  from  contractors  for  work  at  these  prices.  But 
if  the  solid  content,  or  the  weight  of  the  materials,  or  the  workman- 
ship, exceeds  the  estimates,  the  drtierence  is  due  to  the  contractors, 
and  in  fact  no  one  is  responsible  for  the  excess.  The  engineer 
or  the  architect  may  be  blamed, — they  may  be  accused  of  want  of 
foresight,  or  experience, — but  no  further  redi-ess  can  be  had,  since 
the  work  really  represents  a  value  of  which  the  Government 
alone  has  the  advantage.  If  an  architect  or  engineer  should  be 
required  to  pay  the  excess  of  the  cost  above  the  stipulations  of 
the  estimate,  he  might  reply  that  a  part  of  the  builcUng  just 
completed  belonged  to  him,  since  he  had  been  at  the  cost  of  it. 
If  the  architect  receives  a  commission  of  so  much  per  cent,  on 
the  amount  of  the  expenditure,  he  might,  in  case  the  estimates 
were  unjustifiably  exceeded,  be  reasonably  mulcted  of  the  com- 
mission upon  the  excess,  since  he  might  be  suspected  of  having 
occasioned  it  with  a  view  to  increase  his  fees ;  but  if,  as  is  the 
case  with  the  engineers  and  architects  of  Paris,  and  some  of  the 
Departments,  these  agents  receive  fixed  salaries,  they  cannot 
incur  any  further  resjaonsibility  than  that  determined  by  the 
Code  Civil. 

As  salaried  agents  they  are  only  employes  under  a  board  of 
dbectors,  which  is  alone  responsible  ;  they  are  stewards  com- 
missioned to  give  orders  for  work  and  to  furnish  a  statement 
of  accounts;  the  directors  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  pay,  though, 
of  course,  they  may  find  fault  with  their  agents  if  they  have 
exceeded  the  amount  fixed  by  the  Government  estimates. 

Under  chcumstances  such  as  this,  a  board  of  dnectors  can 


LECTURE  XJI.  97 

only  blame  themselves  if  their  employes  or  stewards  do  not  con- 
form to  their  views  in  point  of  order  or  economy,  or  have  been 
weak  enough  to  yield  to  the  extravagant  inclinations  of  con-- 
tractors. 

Some  have  thought  that  by  loweiing  the  status  of  the  archi- 
tect,— by  making  liim  more  directly  dependent  on  the  board  of 
dii'ectors, — reducing  him  to  the  position  of  a  mere  clerk, — the 
administration  would  be  more  at  Uberty  to  regulate  its  outlay 
and  secure  a  better  return  for  them. 

Experience  has  sho^^^l  this  to  be  a  mistake.     The  more  the 
position  of  the  architect  has  been  lowered,  the  less  control  have 
the  du'ectors  had  over  the  outlay.     By  lowering  the  status  of 
the  intermediary  agent,  they  have  diminished  the  responsibility 
and   therefore   the   safeguards  against   excess.      If  we    woidd 
thoroughly  remedy  the  evil  not  unreasonably  complained  of,  we 
must  investigate  its  causes.     It  is  easy  to  lay  the  blame  on  the 
architect,  who  is  labouring  imder  the  disadvantages  of  a  bad 
system,  and  to  consider  him  responsible  for  faults  of  which  in 
many  cases  he  is  not  the  original  cause.     In  many  cases  the 
prescribed  amount  of  expenditure  is  insufficient  for  the  require- 
ments of  the  case  ;  and  when  the  plans  are  ch'awn,  the  estimates 
are  found  to  be  too  high  and  the   architect  is   called  upon  to 
reduce  them.     He  then  finds  himself  in  this  dilemma  :  either  he 
must  cheapen  the  work  until  it  lails  to  meet  the  requu-ements  of 
good  construction,  or  he  is  tempted  to  undercalculate  the  esti- 
mates.    If  he  does  not  act  thus  he  runs  the  risk  of  losing  a 
perhaps  long-hoped-for  commission  ;  for  there  will  not  be  wanting 
other  architects  who  will  profess  their  ability  to  carry  out  eveiy 
requirement  withm  the  limits  of  the  prescribed  expenditure,  and 
whose  tempting  assurances  will  be  readily  beheved,   although 
vdtimately  the  estimates  will  be  exceeded  without  the  possibiHty 
of  any  material  redress,   since  the  architect  is  not  personally 
responsible.      Thus   the   scrupulous   architect,    who    furnished 
ti-ustworthy  estimates,  and  refused  to  act  the  unworthy  part 
to  which  he  was  impelled,  is  the  sufferer  by  his  honesty,  without 
benefit  to  any  one.     Few  deteraiine  to  act  thus  heroically  ;  and 
if  arcliitects  have  been  found  thus  scru2:)ulous,  it  must  be  con- 
fessed that  they  have  earned  Uttle  thanks  by  their  conscientious- 
ness.   At  any  rate  there  stands  the  builchng  carried  out  by  a 
rival  architect,  and,  cost  what  it  may,  it  must  be  paid  for. 
Despite  the  assm-ances  of  this  less  scrupulous  confrere,  it  has  cost 
even  more  than  if  it  had  been  left  to  the  direction  of  the  man 
of  prmciple.     The  building  has  been  erected,  and  the  disappoint- 
ment it  has  occasioned  does  not  serve  as  a  warning  for  future 
guidance ;    at   least   such  has    been   the    case    hitherto.      We 
have  seen,  e.g.  an  amount  specified  for  the  erection  of  a  building, 

VOL.  II.  G 


98  LECTURES  fiN  ARCHITECTURE. 

for  which  architects  wei'e  invited  to  compete.  On  examining 
the  designs,  no  regard  M'as  paid  to  their  conformity  with  tliat 
amount.  The  award  has  been  made,  the  building  has  been 
erected,  and  the  cost  has  been  double  or  treble  the  sum  pre- 
scribed ;  there  may  have  been  some  complariit ;  but  who  Avas 
most  deceived  in  the  matter  ?  Was  it  not  the  conscientious 
architect,  who  in  conforming  to  the  instructions,  had  foregone 
the  attractive  features  which  had  gained  the  premium  for  liis 
less  conscientious,  but  evidently  more  astute  or  less  practical 
rival  ? 

But  this  is  only  one  side  of  the  question.  The  unparalleled  and 
often  extravagant  costliness  of  our  modern  public  buildings,  and 
the  lavish  use  of  materials  without  good  reason  is  an  increasing 
evil ;  for,  not  liking  to  be  surpassed  by  his  rivals,  the  architect 
who  is  intrusted  with  a  building  is  disposed  to  render  his  work 
more  costly  still,  and  to  make  a  more  lavish  use  of  the  most  ex- 
pensive materials.  The  builders  eagerly  encourage  this  tendency, 
cliiefly  from  motives  of  interest,  but  also  from  pride.  Are  there 
many  architects  with  sufficient  resolution  and  good  sense  to 
resist  temptation  under  such  circumstances  ? — who  in  order  to 
keep  within  the  limits  of  their  estimates,  are  willing  to  appear 
humble  and  commonplace  before  a  public  wliich  scarcely  sees 
anything  in  a  budding  but  a  facade  more  or  less  ornamented 
with  columns,  pilasters  and  carving  ?  And  when  the  building  is 
completed,  does  that  public,  which  nevertheless  has  to  pay  for 
it,  ask  what  it  has  cost, — whether  the  expense  is  proportionate 
to  the  practical  value  of  the  edifice, — whether  if  it  had  cost  forty 
or  fifty  thousand  pounds  less  it  might  not  have  been  as  usefid  or 
even  as  beautiful  ?  Very  few  architects  indeed  could  be  found, 
who  have  been  able  to  resist  such  considerations  ;  and  are  they 
thanked  for  doing  so  ?  Have  we  not  often  heard  their  work 
criticised  as  plain  and  unimaginative  ? 

A  wealthy  individual  who  builds  a  city  mansion  or  country 
house  for  himself,  may  require  what  he  pleases  from  the  archi- 
tect he  selects ;  he  may  subject  him  to  all  his  caprices,  have  a 
decoration  or  architectural  feature  altered  ten  times,  if  the  fancy 
seizes  him  ;  he  may  adopt  in  turn  the  freaks  of  wife  or  friends, 
or  of  "  people  of  taste,"  who  are  very  lavish  of  advice,  and  are 
gratified  at  seeing  the  mark  of  their  influence  impressed  on  the 
building.  The  individual  who  pays  out  of  his  own  pocket  is 
quite  at  liberty  to  apply  to  a  gardener  or  decorative  painter  to 
plan  Iris  building,  if  the  architect  is  sufficiently  in  earnest  in  his 
profession  to  refuse  to  lend  himself  to  all  the  ridiculous  caprices 
of  the  employer. 

But  it  is  otherwise  when  public  buildings  are  in  question, 
constructed  at  the  expense  of  the  State,  or  by  local  taxation. 


LECTURE  XII.  99 

In  this  case  the  Government  commissioner,  even  the  architect,  is 
responsible  for  the  proper  expenditm-e  of  these  funds  ;  and  I  do 
not  consider  that  in  tliis  case  the  responsibility  of  the  commis- 
sioner can  altogether  supersede  that  of  the  architect ;  for  the 
latter  is  not  ignorant  of  the  source  whence  the  fimds  are  derived  ; 
his  ambition  as  an  architect  must  be  subordinated  to  liis  duties 
as  a  citizen ;  he  should  therefore  refuse  to  be  a  party  to  un- 
necessary expenditure,  and  set  himself  against  mere  caprices ; 
his  duty  is  to  argue  for,  and  urge  the  adoption  of,  what  he  con- 
siders right ;  in  a  word,  to  maintain  his  mdependence.  I  am 
aware  that  the  Commissioners  of  PubKc  Works  are  inclined  to 
regard  such  mdependence  of  spirit  as  annoying,  and  would 
rather  employ  men  who  are  more  phant ;  so  as  thereby  to  main- 
tain the  fi-ill  prestige  of  their  initiative  ;  there  are  moreover  many 
who  are  somewhat  ambitious  of  personally  directing  public  works, 
and  who  woidd  wish  to  regard  the  architect  as  only  a  submis- 
sive foreman,  so  that  they  may  be  able  to  say  :  "/have  erected 
this  building ;  the  artist  has  not  perhaps  exactly  carried  out  my 
instructions ;  /  changed  this ;  /  had  that  done."  Few  men 
placed  in  a  position  of  command  are  proof  against  this  singular 
'penchant  for  being  considered  "  something  of  an  architect." 

Louis  the  Fomteenth  was  quite  possessed  by  it  at  times, 
though  laden  with  all  other  honours ;  can  we  then  expect  a 
Commissioner  of  Eublic  Works  to  be  exempt  from  it  ?  This 
mdulgence  of  a  somewhat  childish  vanity,  aided  by  the  weakness 
of  az'chitects,  is,  in  short,  disastrous  to  art  and  financially  detri- 
mental. 

By  didy  considering  the  nature  of  his  duties  ;  by  recovering 
somewhat  of  that  independence  of  spirit  which  has  been  so 
assiduously  stifled  withm  him  by  his  academical  training  ;  by 
gettuig  rid  of  a  host  of  pi-ejudices  and  worn-out  notions,  and  by 
eai-nestly  devotmg  himself  to  the  practice  of  his  art ;  by  learning 
to  put  his  conceptions  into  a  rational  form,  so  as  to  be  able,  when 
requu-ed,  to  justify  his  views, — the  architect  will  adopt  the 
surest  method  of  regaining  the  position  which  he  is  gradually 
losing,  and  of  restoring  liis  art  to  the  position  it  ought  to 
occupy. 

In  order  therefore  to  restrict  the  cost  of  public  works  within 
more  reasonable  limits,  it  would  seem  desirable  that  competent 
boards  of  administration  shoidd  make  it  a  chief  consideration  to 
employ  architects  who  are  in  all  respects  worthy  of  confidence, 
in  pomt  both  of  ability  and  character  ;  and  having  found  such, 
that  they  should  abstain  from  intertermg  with  the  preparation 
of  their  designs  and  estimates,  and  the  manner  of  carrying  out 
the  works  ;  and  that  the  architects  who  are  intrusted  with  the 
erection  of  a  building  should  be  less  anxious  to  produce  an 


100  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

"  eflPect "  on  idle  gazers  than  thoroughly  to  fulfil  the  require- 
ments of  the  case,  by  the  simplest  and  most  economical  means 
appropriate  to  the  object ;  and  perhaps,  by  bringing  to  bear  on 
theLr  work  a  more  thorough  knowledge  of  materials  and  of  their 
jvidicious  employment.  I  allow  that  the  public  taste,  accus- 
tomed as  it  has  been  to  meretricious  display,  needs  some  degree 
of  correction ;  but  if  we  do  not  perform  our  part,  the  public, 
already  weary  of  an  unmeaning  extravagance  and  lavish  profu- 
sion, will  ultunately  insist  on  the  erection  of  foiu-  plam  walls  in 
rubble  and  stucco,  which  will  give  repose  to  the  eye  and  not 
empty  the  purse.  And  then  the  architects  whose  services  are 
so  essential  to  the  visible  grandeur  of  a  great  State  will  be  thrust 
aside  by  a  host  of  cheap  builders,  unscrupulous  contractors,  and 
agents  ready  to  undertake  anything,  and  Architectural  Art  will 
cease  to  exist  among  us,  except  as  a'memory  of  the  past. 


LECTURE  XIII. 

THE     CONSTRUCTION    OF    BUILDINGS. 


ORGANISATION  OF  BUILDING  YARDS — PRESENT  CONDITION  OF  THE  ART  OF 
BUILDING — USE  OF  MODERN  APPLIANCES. 

OF  late  years  much  has  been  done  to  faciUtate  buildmg  opera- 
tions ;  much  however  still  remains  to  be  accomplished 
when  architectiu-al  works  are  in  question.  Civil  engmeering 
has  promoted  the  adoption  of  practical  appliances  which  greatly 
influence  the  organisation  of  works.  Railway  works,  embank- 
ments, and  public  buildings  on  a  vast  scale,  which  have  become 
so  numerous  of  late,  have  compelled  the  managers  of  these  works 
to  seek  for  economical  and  expeditious  methods  for  excavation, 
and  for  transporting,  converting,  hoisting,  and  fixing  materials. 
On  then-  part,  the  manufacturers  who  supply  elementary  mate- 
rials, such  as  limes,  cements,  bricks,  and  tiles,  and  iron  to  the 
conti-actors,  have  been  obliged  to  extend  and  simplify  their 
manufacture  in  order  promptly  to  meet  the  increased  demand, 
and  at  prices  which  allow  of  their  being  largely  used.  The 
novel  machines  adopted  in  engineering  works  have  gradually 
found  their  way  mto  the  building-yards  superintended  by  archi- 
tects. But  it  must  be  remarked  that  appliances  which  are  ser- 
viceable on  extensive  areas, — spaces  such  as  those  which  are 
usually  at  the  disposal  of  civil-engineering  works, — railways, 
bridges,  and  great  public  undertakings, — are  not  always  suitable 
for  yards  under  the  direction  of  architects,  or  for  works  of  such 
a  nature  as  they  have  to  superintend.  These  yards  are  confined 
in  space,  or  are  at  a  considerable  distance  from  the  buildings, — in 
fact,  the  builders  have  often  no  more  room  to  move  about  in  than 
the  space  they  are  building  in.  In  this  case  the  only  improved 
machines  that  can  be  employed  are  those  for  hoisting,  and.  some 
small  tramways  laid  on  the  ground  or  on  the  scaffolding. 

In  excavating  and  embanking  the  •  difficulty  of  employing 


102  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

steam  machinery  is  still  greater  for  architects  in  towns  ;  since  in 
nineteen  cases  out  of  twenty  these  sinkings  come  to  the  verge 
of  the  street,  and  recoiu'se  must  then  be  had  to  stages,  shovelling, 
and  to  carts, — means  for  raising  and  transport  which  encumber 
the  streets.  Evidently  however  these  altogether  primitive 
means  might  be  improved  upon.  Why,  for  instance,  not  employ 
the  endless  chain  and  buckets  for  raising  the  excavated  earth  and 
discharging  it  into  the  carts  1  And  why  should  not  these  vehicles 
— the  old-foshioned  carts — be  improved  upon  and  replaced  by 
carriages  to  which  might  be  hung  boxes  that  could  be  clischarged 
in  all  directions  like  the  trucks  employed  in  railway  excavations  ■? 
This  method  of  transport  would  be  less  dangerous  than  carting. 
Carriages  provided  with  wheels  of  large  diameter  would  be  less 
heavy  to  draw  and  less  fatiguing  for  the  shaft  horse.  The 
tipping  of  the  earth  would  never  hazard  the  dragging  of  cart  and 
horses  down  the  embankment,  as  now  sometimes  happens. 

All  these  questions  are  left  to  be  settled  by  the  contractors, 
and  it  is  seldom  that  the  architect  troubles  himself  about  them. 
As  the  contracts  are  seldom  "general,"  but  on  the  contrary  are 
subdivided  according  to  the  nature  of  the  work,  each  contractor 
acts  merely  within  the  precise  limits  of  his  department,  and 
considers  that  he  has  no  interest  in  adopting  means  advan- 
tageous to  the  common  interest  of  the  work.  The  consequence 
is  that  in  buUdings  of  architectural  pretension  which  require  the 
concurrence  of  several  trades,  each  adopts  its  own  special  means 
for  raising  or  fixing  the  materials  or  work.  Hence  time  and 
strength  are  wasted.  The  mason,  who,  of  all  the  conti'actors, 
requires  the  most  powerful  machines  and  the  most  various  means 
of  fixing,  is  often  compelled  by  his  contract  to  allow  the  smith, 
for  example,  or  the  carpenter,  to  hoist  pieces  of  iron  or  wood 
by  means  of  the  machine  arranged  for  the  masonry  work,  or 
again  to  leave  the  scaffoldmg  which  he  had  intended  to  serve 
for  the  cleaning  down,  until  the  carvers  have  finished  their  work  ; 
but  these  are  measures  of  detail. 

While  steam,  hydrauhc,  and  gas  lifting-machines  already 
mark  a  considerable  progress  as  compared  with  the  old  windlass, 
the  means  for  sliifting  heavy  materials  on  the  sjjot  do  not  appear 
to  be  more  economical,  sure,  or  expeditious  than  those  formerly 
used.  Yet  it  would  seem  as  if  travelling  cranes  with  moveable 
beams,  to  let  down  the  stone  where  it  is  wanted,  ought  soon  to 
replace  the  fixed  hoist ;  in  very  large  building  works  tramways 
are  sometimes  employed  on  the  top  of  the  scaffolding  with 
trucks,  so  that  by  means  of  turntables  stones  may  be  moved  to 
any  point.  But  these  are  appliances  which  are  only  adopted 
for  very  considerable  works,  and  have  not  been  employed  in 
ordinary  buildings. 


LECTURE  XIII.  103 

It  would  seem  as  if  in  our  day,  when  machinery  and  manu- 
factures supply  every  want,  town  buildings  ought  to  be  erected 
without  occasioning  any  inconvenience,  without  hindrance  to 
traffic  or  annoyance  to  the  neighbourhood,  and  with  the  precision 
which  modern  mechanical  appliances  insure.  It  is  evident  that 
very  much  still  remains  to  be  done  If  we  would  derive  from  these 
mechanical  agencies  all  the  advantages  the  pubhc  have  the  right 
to  expect  in  the  case  of  buildings  that  are  not  public  works. 

In  many  districts  of  France  the  architects  are  accustomed  to 
have  the  stone  sent  from  the  quarry  ready  dressed.  This  plan 
offers  certain  advantages  which  are  worth  noting :  only  the 
required  quantity  and  therefore  only  the  required  weight  of  stone 
has  to  be  brought ;  it  obviates  the  necessity  of  yards  for  the 
storage  of  stone  previous  to  dressing ;  it  prevents  the  sending 
of  defective  materials,  since  the  dressing  renders  defects  apparent, 
— cracks,  soft  beds,  etc.  It  necessitates  on  the  part  of  the  architect 
a  very  careful  study  of  the  jointing  and  the  setting  out  of 
"  templets,"  since  every  piece  ordered  from  the  quarry  must  fit 
exactly  into  the  place  denoted  for  it  in  the  drawing.  We 
cannot  ignore  the  fact  that  the  material  means  of  execution  have 
their  influence  on  the  architecture ;  hence  too  many  architects 
object  to  that  plan  as  a  constramt  on  design. 

In  districts  where  the  practice  obtains  of  having  the  stone 
worked  in  the  quarry,  the  buddings  often  present  a  frank  and 
simple  structure  which  has  a  charm  of  its  own  independently 
of  the  more  or  less  pleasing  features  of  the  architectm-e.  It 
stands  to  reason  that  when  templets  have  to  be  given,  allowing 
the  dressing  of  the  stone  at  a  distance  from  the  building,  it 
becomes  necessary  to  simplify  the  sections  as  much  as  possible, 
to  avoid  the  difficulties  which  would  necessitate  verbal  explana- 
tions, waste  of  labour,  and  especially  "  there-abouts."  The 
Greeks  worked  theii*  stones  at  the  quarry  very  nearly  exactly 
fitting,  and  only  needing  a  little  cleaning  off".  The  Eomans  did 
the  same,  as  their  ancient  quarries  show.  During  the  Middle 
Ages  this  excellent  method  was  constantly  adopted,  and  every 
stone  was  completely  worked  before  setting.  It  was  in  the 
sixteenth  century  that  architects  discontinued  this  method  in 
certain  provinces  of  France,  and  esj^ecially  in  Paris.  Since  that 
time  the  stone  has  been  sent  from  the  quarries  in  the  rough, 
and  the  masons  have  had  to  select  from  the  blocks  those  which 
were  suitable  for  this  or  that  part  of  the  work.  Hence  have 
resulted  considerable  waste  and  lost  labour  on  pieces  dis- 
covered to  be  defective  when  the  dressing  was  already  far 
advanced,  if  not  completed  ;  hence  the  necessity  for  havmg  large 
yards  for  storing,  shifting,  and  shaping  these  blocks,  and  as  a 
consequence  the  little  trouble  taken  by  the  architect  with  the 


104  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

system  of  jointing.  His  chief  concern  being  for  a  special  style 
of  architecture,  which  is  not  always  in  harmony  with  the  nature 
of  the  materials  to  be  used,  he  too  often  leaves  to  the  mason  the 
task  of  drawing  the  sections. 

It  is  necessary  to  consider  this  important  question  more 
closely,  in  order  that  it  may  be  duly  apj^reciated.  Thhty  years 
ago  at  Paris,  scarcely  any  material  was  used  but  the  weather- 
stones  of  Montrouge  and  ArcueU,  that  is  stone  called  "Bagneux," 
which  is  at  most  two  feet  in  thickness  of  bed,  has  stone  only  ten 
inches  thick,  and  thin  stone  called  "  Moulin,"  for  example,  which 
is  only  twelve  inches  thick.  In  buildings  erected  by  skdful 
men,  even  in  the  last  century,  these  thicknesses  were  still  con- 
sidered ;  the  architectural  features  and  their  horizontal  lines 
were  designed  with  reference  to  their  height  of  bed.  During 
the  Middle  Ages  this  j^rinciple  was  scrupulously  regarded,  as 
may  be  seen  in  the  examples  previously  given.  But  for  the 
last  twenty  years  the  ancient  quarries  being  exhausted,  it  has 
been  found  necessary  to  import  weather-stones  from  distant  parts. 
The  railways  were  completed  just  in  time  to  facilitate  these 
imports,  so  that  we  now  get  weather-stone  from  Burgundy  and 
the  Jura,  and  stone  from  Euville,  Chauvigny,  and  the  banks  of 
the  Rhone  and  the  Saone.  Now  most  of  these  durable  lime- 
stones are  three  feet  and  upwards  in  thickness  of  bed ;  some 
even,  such  as  those  of  Chauvigny,  have  no  beds,  and  may  be  laid 
in  any  way.  It  would  seem  that  such  materials,  as  being  finer 
than  any  hitherto  used  in  these  parts,  ought  to  have  produced 
changes  in  certain  architectural  features  which  had  been  adopted 
when  only  stone  of  much  less  thickness  of  bed  could  be  procured. 
With  rare  exceptions  this  is  not  the  case,  and  our  architects 
have  constantly  adhered  to  the  dimensions  adopted  by  the 
builders  of  the  last  two  centuries.  We  may  see  in  our  build- 
ing-yards thick  blocks  being  cut  up  into  thin  courses,  with 
useless  waste  of  labour,  for  the  mere  sake  of  conforming  to 
traditional  design, — the  value  of  fine  material  being  thereby 
depreciated,— and  at  great  expense.  Or  again  (which  is  worse), 
we  see  simulated  on  the  large  blocks  in  place,  masonry  in  small 
blocks  so  that  a  single  layer  is  made  to  apjoear  as  two  or  three. 
It  might  be  supposed  that  an  architect  would  be  glad  to  have 
such  magnificent  materials,  and  would  design  his  structure  with 
a  view  to  manifest  their  superior  character  :  nothing  of  the  kind  ; 
he  conceals  it  for  the  sake  of  adhermg  to  a  style  of  architecture 
in  wliicli  the  materials  at  command  were  of  inferior  dimensions. 
In  one  of  the  great  cities  of  France — Lyons — which  unports 
durable  stone  of  extraordmary  strength,  and  in  blocks  of  enor- 
mous size,  courses  may  be  seen  mai'ked  in  monolithic  jambs,  and 
voussoirs  marked  in  lintels  of  a  single  stone.     It  would  not  be 


LECTURE  XIII.  105 

more  absurd  to  ciit  up  a  fine  piece  of  cloth  into  little  bits  for  the 
pleasure  of  sewing  them  together,  or  to  represent  pieces  joined 
on  a  cloak  cut  from  a  wide  breadth  of  stuff.  Nevertheless 
it  is  to  absurdities  such  as  these  that  we  are  led  through  the 
dislike  manifested  by  a  certain  school  of  architects  for  anything 
like  reasoning,  or  rather  the  ridiculous  fear  lest  reason  should 
stifle  inspiration.  In  no  art  is  reason  adverse  to  inspiration  :  on 
the  contrary  it  is  its  necessary  regulator,  and  most  generally 
reason  is  a  check  only  on  caprice ;  true  inspiration,  in  order  to 
manifest  itself,  calls  into  action  every  faculty  of  intelligence,  and 
far  from  dreading  the  light  of  reason,  surrounds  itself  there- 
with as  a  rampart. 

If,  as  may  be  expected,  machines  for  the  carriage  and  raising 
of  materials  are  still  further  improved,  and  are  moi"e  readily  and 
frequently  used,  these  materials  will  be  delivered  to  us  in  the 
yards  in  larger  blocks,  if  they  are  stone,  and  in  pieces  of  greater 
weight  and  size,  if  they  are  iron.  But  even  as  things  are  now, 
our  architecture  has  ceased  to  be  in  harmony  with  the  appliances 
of  the  day ;  it  endeavours  to  disguise  these  powerful  resources 
instead  of  manifesting  them ;  what  then  will  be  the  state  of 
things  when  these  resources  shall  have  become  more  consider- 
able 1  Have  we  not  in  the  judiciovxs  i;se  of  the  appliances 
which  our  times  afford  us  an  element  available  for  the  renova- 
tion of  art  ?  When  these  appliances  become  more  efficient,  why 
do  not  architects  take  advantage  of  the  augmentation  in  the 
quahty  or  dimensions  of  the  materials  procurable  ?  The  only 
attempts  that  have  been  made  in  this  direction  of  late  years  have 
been  limited  to  the  erection  acjainst  facades  of  a  few  monolithic 
columns, — columns,  moreover,  wliich  are  merely  an  ornament, — 
which  are  "  stuck  on,"  and  are  not  necessary  to  the  stability  of 
the  buildings.  How  is  it  that  these  materials  of  exceptional 
dimensions  or  quality  are  not  frankly  utilised  ?  '  From  an 
aesthetic  pomt  of  view  what  good  reason  can  be  urged  against 
their  use,  not  simply  as  a  decoration,  but  as  a  necessary  applinuce 
for  real  and  efficient  support  ? 

The  fact  is  that  there  is  an  utter  discordance  between  the 
practice  of  architectiu-e  and  modern  machinery  ;  the  novel  means 
afforded  to  architects  are  a  source  of  embarrassment  to  them,  not 
the  occasion  of  inventions  and  adaptations  deduced  from  new 
principles.  Not  well  knowing  how  to  make  use  of  means  whose 
notoriety  they  do  not  venture  to  disregard,  they  only  adopt  them 
by  way  of  superaddition — a  sort  of  concession  to  that  notoriety. 
Our  modern  architects  are  like  parvenus  who  have  come  all  at 
once  into  possession  of  a  large  fortune  and  do  not  know  how  to 
adjust  their  expenditure  with  that  discretion  which  belongs  only 
to  accustomed  opulence.     We  must  not  disguise  from  ourselves 


1 06  LECT URES  ON  A  RCHITECTURE. 

the  fact  that,  in  respect  to  the  adoption  of  novel  materials  and 
machines,  everything  remains  to  be  done  in  the  domain  of  architec- 
ture ;  nothing  has  been  seriously  attempted.  Only  in  the  great 
yards  of  the  civil  engineer  has  anything  been  accomplished  in  this 
direction  :  but  works  of  this  kind  which  are  little  varied  as  regards 
the  adaptation  of  materials,  and  are  limited  to  the  satisfaction 
of  special  requirements,  cannot  serve  as  precedents  for  the  archi- 
tect. And  even  if  he  takes  these  works  for  what  they  are  or 
ought  to  be  worth,  he  does  not  always  adopt  with  frankness  and 
determination  the  forms  which  the  means  employed  would  dic- 
tate. Even  in  civil  engineering,  bastard  traditions  hinder  the 
invention  of  constructors. 

In  the  previous  Lecture,  I  entered  on  some  questions  relating 
to  mixed  iron  and  masonry  construction,  without  any  other  pur- 
pose than  that  of  oftering  to  hiquirers  the  elements  of  novel 
methods  or  novel  applications  of  old  methods — indicating  the 
path  which  might  be  pursued.  It  would  undoubtedly  be  more 
advantageous  to  give  the  readers  of  these  Lectures  some  examples 
of  modem  architectural  stnictures  erected  in  accordance  with 
these  principles ;  but,  unfortunately,  such  structures  do  not 
exist,  and  I  am  therefore  compelled  to  suppose  what  they  might 
be  if  the  practical  methods,  which  obtained  at  the  various  periods 
that  were  especially  favourable  to  artistic  activity,  were  adopted. 

I  would  first  call  attention  to  the  special  characteristic  of 
modern  architecture,  which  is  extensiveness.  No  previous 
civilisation  has  required  the  covering  of  such  vast  spaces.  The 
largest  buildings  of  antiquity  are  small  compared  with  those 
which  our  requirements  necessitate.  Of  course  I  am  speaking 
here  only  of  available  dimensions ;  we  cannot  regard  as  vast 
buildings  the  pyramids  of  Memphis,  for  instance,  or  the  Assyrian 
palaces  divided  into  a  multitude  of  cells,  or  even  the  Roman 
amphitheatres  which  were  merely  enclosures  occasionally  covered. 
Modern  civilisation,  which  tends  more  and  more  towards  demo- 
cracy, which  does  not  tolerate  slavery  or  serfdom,  or  even  privi- 
leged castes,  erects  buildings  intended  for  all.  The  Middle  Ages 
set  the  example  in  building  their  Cathedrals,  and  the  programme 
laid  down  was  admirably  carried  out.  In  the  nineteenth  century, 
in  Eiu-ope  as  well  as  in  America,  in  spite  of  the  network  of 
traditions  by  which  we  are  encompassed,  we  must  look  upon  all 
that  is  not  made  for  the  public — the  entire  public^ — as  transient. 
Now  the  places  which  the  public  frequent  for  business  or  pleasure 
are  never  vast  enourdi.  This  axiom  of  modern  architecture  is 
being  constantly  illustrated.  The  covered  space  is  never  too 
large,  the  exits  never  too  wide,  or  the  facilities  of  communication 
too  great,  in  any  building  in  which  the  public  assemble,  whether 
the  object  which  impels  it  is  taste,  necessity,  business,  or  pleasure. 


LECTURE  XIII.  107 

Here  we  have  a  novel  requirement,  one  which  could  never  have 
arisen  before  the  existence  of  railways  and  the  wonderfully  in- 
creased facilities  of  communication  and  intercourse.  Listening 
sometimes  to  the  grumblers  who  even  condemn  the  prodigious 
works  of  street  cutting  accomplished  in  Paris  and  others  of  our 
great  cities,  we  ask  ourselves,  What  would  have  been  the  state 
of  tilings  if  our  towns  had  been  left  in  the  state  in  which  they 
were  twenty  years  ago  ?  Should  we  have  been  able  to  live,  to 
move  about,  to  buy  and  sell  ?  It  is  retorted  that  in  reality 
the  feverish  activity  of  our  great  towns  is  occasioned  by  new 
facilities  for  movement  and  the  works  they  necessitate.  That  is 
the  question.  I  do  not  think  that  the  opening  of  a  street  is  a 
sufficient  cause  why  crowds  and  vehicles  should  immediately  fill 
it.  Louis  the  Fourteenth  could  never  make  Versailles  a  lively 
place  despite  the  magnificent  arteries  that  traverse  it.  But 
when  we  see  crowds  of  people  filling  the  issues  made  for  them, 
we  may  say  that  such  issues  were  requii-ed.  And  are  any  of 
those  great  new  streets  that  have  been  opened  in  Paris,  Mar- 
seilles, or  Lyons,  empty  ? 

Another  fact  is  also  worth  remarking  :  when  the  first  railways 
were  made,  how  often  was  it  asserted  that  the  great  trunk  lines 
would  lose  a  considerable  part  of  their  returns  as  sooii  as  the 
secondary  Imes  were  constructed  !  But  with  rare  exceptions  the 
result  has  been  quite  the  contrary ;  the  more  lines  have  been  con- 
structed, the  more  travelling  there  has  been  and  the  greater  the 
amount  of  goods  traffic.  It  would  seem  as  if  the  population  multi- 
plied in  a  direct  ratio  to  the  increase  of  roads  of  various  kinds. 
We  observe  the  same  result  ui  our  cities  themselves ;  it  has  often 
been  said  that  such  or  such  a  new  thoroughfare  w^ould  uijure 
another,  that  such  or  such  a  boulevard  would  cause  another  to  be 
abandoned.  On  the  contrary,  in  proportion  to  the  number  opened, 
the  more  are  they  all  frequented,  old  and  new  alike.  The  fact  of 
the  matter  is  this  :  people  now  do  in  a  day  what  they  formerly 
took  a  week  to  accomplish,  and  in  an  hour  what  they  used  to 
do  in  a  day.  The  result,  as  estimated  by  Pohtical  Economy,  is 
the  increase  of  wealth.  I  will  not  discuss  the  question  whether 
this  is  a  good  or  an  evil ;  I  merely  note  the  fact,  and  remark 
that  it  must  and  does  influence  architecture.  I  cannot  but  say 
that  when,  in  presence  of  such  a  social  transformation,  which  is 
constantly  tending  to  be  more  and  more  complete,  I  see  sacrifices 
offered  to  certain  of  those  jealous  divinities  who  held  sway  in 
the  architecture  of  the  last  two  centuries  ;  when  I  see  invoked 
as  supreme  arbiters  the  Greek  orders,  Vignola  and  Palladio,  and 
the  formulas  of  art  recognised  in  the  Greek  capitals  whose  extent 
was  not  gi'eater  than  that  of  our  small  provincial  centres,  while  a 
few  trifling  changes,  uncritically  adopted,  are  regarded  as  bold 


108  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

innovations,  I  cannot  -repress  a  smile.  In  fact,  we  hear  it  dis- 
cussed as  an  important  question  whether  Corintliian  cohimns 
ought  to  be  sLngle  or  coupled ;  whether  the  complete  entab- 
lature should  be  placed  on  the  column,  and  whether  the  lintel 
should  be  preferred  to  the  arch,  or  the  arch  to  the  lintel ! 
whether  marmorcenne  decoration  is  destined  to  produce  a 
revolution  m  art,  or  whether  any  such  revolution  will  eschew 
marble  and  gilding  in  the  open  air !  The  really  important 
consideration  would  be  for  us  to  take  the  trouble  to  exercise 
our  reason.  But  our  magnificent  new  thoroughfares,  which 
shorten  distances  and  introduce  light  and  air  into  the  crowded 
centres  of  our  cities,  unquestionably  amehorate  the  material 
condition  of  our  townsmen.  Do  they  produce  citizens  ?  Never 
have  such  advantageous  positions  been  accorded  to  artists  ;  never 
has  money  been  more  liberally  voted  for  building  purposes,  or  a 
freer  scope  been  given  for  executing  the  most  extensive  enter- 
prises in  a  short  space  of  time.  Will  this  create  an  ai-t  ?  It 
is  just  as  impossible  to  create  citizens  by  opening  streets — what- 
ever their  width — as  to  create  an  architecture  by  giving  its 
professors  sites  and  money  at  discretion.  If,  then,  architects 
would  not  wish  to  be  classed,  in  the  next  century,  among  lost 
species  and  extinct  historical  individualities — such  as  astrologei's, 
alchemists,  and  men  in  armour — it  is  high  time  they  set  them- 
selves resolutely  to  work,  for  the  venerable  mysteries  by  which 
their  dignity  has  been  sustained  are  beginning  to  be  exposed  to 
the  gaze  of  the  vulgar ;  and  if  the  public  should  take  it  into  its 
head  some  fine  day  to  insist  upon  a  rational  explanation  of  what 
is  being  built  for  it,  there  will  be  a  vindictive  reaction  against 
these  rumous  caprices — these  orgies  in  stone.  It  is  not  by  the 
iningling  of  styles,  and  combining,  without  reason  or  princi^ile, 
the  architectural  foi-ms  of  various  ages,  that  we  shall  cUscover 
the  art  appropriate  to  our  own,  but  by  making  the  introduction 
of  reason  and  plain  good  sense  into  every  conception  our  first 
consideration  ;  making  use  of  materials  in  accordance  with  their 
respective  properties ;  with  a  frank  and  cordial  adoption  of 
industrial  appliances,  and  instead  of  waiting  for  these  to  take 
the  initiative,  ourselves  eliciting  their  production. 

Even  now  there  are  persons  who  imagine  that  novelty  in 
architecture  must  consist  in  some  such  devices  as  building  in- 
verted pyramids  or  columns  with  capitals  at  their  base ;  and 
many  of  our  professional  brethren,  finding  no  difiiculty  in  ex- 
posing the  imbecility  of  such  notions,  are  apt  to  conclude  that 
"all  is  for  the  best"  in  this  "best  of  possible  worlds,"  and  in 
drawing  the  conclusion  that  notliing  could  be  more  disastrous 
than  to  lend  an  ear  to  reformers  of  this  class.  Some  find  fault 
with  the  study  of  certain  styles  of  art,  and  while  themselves 


■J  ' 

LECTURE  XIII.  109 

engaged  hi  combining,  in  theii*  designs,  architectural  forms 
borrowed  from  the  ages  of  Augustus  and  Louis  the  Fourteenth, 
accuse  the  study  of  other  styles  as  leading  to  exclusiveness, 
causing  art  to  retrograde,  and  so  forth.  I  will  not  enlarge  on 
these  hackneyed  indictments  here,  though  they  continually  pre- 
sent themselves  in  various  forms,  and  with  as  little  of  logical  con- 
sistency as  of  good  faith.  A  real  novelty  m  architecture  in 
these  days  would  be  to  follow  in  the  track  of  reason — a  track 
that  has  long  been  lost ;  and  the  study  of  those  ancient  arts 
which  proceeded  according  to  a  rational  method  is  the  only 
means  of  impartmg  to  us  afresh  the  habit  of  making  use,  before 
and  above  everything  else,  of  that  portion  of  reason  which  nature 
has  allotted  us. 

Sangume  natures,  optimists  in  architecture — and  there  are 
such — have  long  been  hoping  that  from  the  strange  accumula- 
tion of  so  many  diverse  elements,  the  confusion  of  methods, 
and  the  absence  of  principles,  there  would  gradually  arise  an  art 
proper  to  the  nineteenth  century.  "  See,"  they  say,  "what  took 
place  in  the  sixteenth  century  !  The  study  of  classical  art 
imdertaken  without  critical  discrimination  or  scientific  methods 
was  introduced  amid  expiring  Gothic  art.  To  contempoi'aries  of 
a  philosophic  turn,  nothing  but  confusion  and  anarchy  was 
apparent,  but  to  us,  viewing  it  from  a  distance,  that  French 
architecture  of  the  sixteenth  century  presents  all  the  credentials 
of  a  complete  art ;  it  is  distmct  from  that  of  Italy,  it  has  a 
character  of  its  own  ;  each  provmce  even  has  its  special  features. 
Let  development  have  its  free  course,  and  we  shall  find  that 
in  our  days  a  sunUar  process  is  going  on,  which  we  do  not 
distmctly  appreciate  because  we  are  in  the  very  centre  of  the 
evolution  ;  but  what  you  call  confusion  will  turn  out  for  our 
grandchildren  to  be  only  transition ;  and  this  transition  will  pro- 
duce a  result  in  art  proper  to  the  times,  which  will  have  a 
character  of  its  own,  and  will  perhaps  be  the  admiration  of  future 
ages."  Such  were  the  views  entertamed  tlui'ty  years  ago ;  but 
the  transitional  state  still  remains  only  transitional,  the  con- 
fusion only  increases,  and  our  cities  are  being  filled  with  jiublic 
buUdiugs  deviating  more  and  more  in  style  from  a  common  prin- 
ciple, instead  of  grouping  themselves  harmoniously  round  it.  I 
might  even  go  further,  and  say  that  each  of  our  architects  seems 
to  aim  at  self-contradiction  ;  here  he  adopts  Romanesque  forms, 
there  he  follows  the  Renaissance,  elsewhere  he  conforms  imphcitly 
to  the  age  of  Louis  the  Fourteenth ;  while  in  a  fourth  case  he 
employs  the  Byzantme  style.  It  was  not  thus  that  the  archi- 
tects of  the  sixteenth  century  proceeded,  and  we  may  rest 
assured  that  in  no  j^eriod  of  civilisation  has  the  birth  of  a  new 
epoch  in  art  been  thus  inaugurated.     The  architects  of  the  six- 


no  •    LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

teenth  century  were  thoroughly  sincere  and  consistent  in  their 
procedure.  They  preserved  the  method  of  construction  adopted 
in  previous  ages,  a  method  which  was  good,  practical,  and  rational, 
while,  to  conform  to  the  taste  of  their  age,  they  clothed  their 
constructions  in  a  novel  dress. 

Whether  wrongly  or  rightly,  they  judged  that  the  new  dress 
could  renovate  the  old  body,  which  they  left  intact.  The  idea 
may  have  been  a  mistaken  one,  but  it  was  an  idea,  and  they 
kept  it  constantly  in  view. 

We  cannot,  in  our  days,  lay  claim  to  an  idea,  good  or  bad  ; 
for  when  a  programme  is  laid  before  an  architect  he  does  not 
know  whether  or  not  it  can  be  adapted  to  Romanesque,  Gothic, 
Renaissance  or  Roman  architecture.  Unless  the  authorities 
prescribe  one  of  these  styles — which,  it  must  be  allowed,  they 
rarely  do, — the  architect-  is  free  to  choose,  and  his  choice  is 
directed  by  mere  caprice,  the  success  of  another,  the  wish  to 
produce  somethmg  different  from  what  has  been  done  before,  or 
an  equally  trivial  consideration.  From  this  sceptical  position 
nothing  new,  vital,  or  productive  can  arise ;  it  can  issue  only  in 
such  results  as  we  see  daily  produced, — buildings  exhibiting 
more  and  more  display  in  point  of  sculpture  or  material  ;  for 
where  ideas  are  wanting,  nothing  remains  but  to  make  an  ever 
increasing  extravagance  of  such  display, — buildings  in  which  we 
never  see  a  programme  clearly  traceable ;  rarely  does  sound 
reason  intervene,  and  still  more  rarely  are  materials  judiciously 
employed.  And  the  public  are  sated  with  these  architectural 
luxuries  even  before  the  scaftblding  is  removed. 

And  when  the  building  is  completed,  and  the  purposes  for 
which  it  was  constructed  have  to  be  realised,  a  series  of  opera- 
tions must  be  commenced  which  will  alter  the  architectural 
effects  and  arrangements.  Here  the  flooring  of  an  entresol  will 
pass  across  a  range  of  magnificent  window  recesses.  There  a 
metal  awning  will  cut  right  through  a  colonnade ;  elsewhere 
balconies  which  had  no  jalace  in  the  original  plan  will  be  placed 
in  front  of  windows — they  had  not  been  thought  of  before  !  Use- 
less windows  will  have  to  be  stopped  up,  though  a  glazed  frame 
will  perhaps  be  left  to  disguise  the  alteration.  Sheet-iron  stove- 
pipes will  be  carried  through  the  roofing,  or  chimney-pots  be 
added  to  the  stone  stacks.  The  gasfitter  too  will  pierce  the  walls 
and  cut  the  pilasters  to  make  room  for  his  piping ;  while  other 
systems  of  pipes  will  wind  in  various  directions,  spoil  the  effect  of 
the  architectural  lines,  and  alter  the  contours  of  the  cornices  for 
the  purpose  of  illuminations.  In  the  interior  the  alterations 
will  be  much  more  considerable ;  staircases  and,  later,  flues  for 
calori/eres  not  conteinjjlated  in  the  design  will  pass  in  front  of 
wmdows.     Down-spouts  will  traverse  the  walls  ;  apartments  too 


LECTURE  XI IT.  Ill 

large  for  their  purpose  will  have  to  be  divided ;  closets  and 
passages  wiU  have  only  borrowed  lights  or  skyliglits  in  the  roofing. 
Halls  that  ought  to  be  spacious  will  be  reduced  to  narrow  dimen 
sions  ;  while  close  to  them  will  be  unmeaning,  useless,  dark  and 
gloomy  spaces,  in  which  lights  must  be  kept  burning  at  noon-day. 
In  one  part  there  will  be  no  ventilation,  in  others  dangerously 
chilling  draughts.  Swmg-doors  must  be  placed  within  outer  ones, 
and  the  noise  of  opening  and  shutting  will  be  a  constant  annoyance 
to  the  inmates.  And  many  more  such  examples  of  want  of  fore- 
sight might  be  mentioned.  Ought  we  not  in  building  rather 
to  consider  the  complicated  requirements  of  our  civilisation  than 
how  to  combine  styles  of  architecture,  or  how  to  erect  facades 
that  shall  attract  tlie  gaze  of  loungers — who,  by  the  by,  pay 
little  attention  to  them  because  they  do  not  understand  their 
use  or  meaning,  and  are  irritated  by  the  consideration  of  the 
vast  sums  lavished  on  these  architectural  caprices  ? 

And  would  not  a  little  reflection  suggest  that  one  of  the 
most  effective  means  for  discovering  that  architecture  of  the  ao-e 
which  is  so  much  desiderated  would  be  a  rigorous  adherence  to 
the  requirements  of  the  case  1  As  these  requirements  are 
in  many  cases  novel,  would  not  their  scrupulous  observance 
lead  us  to  novel  conceptions  ?  And  to  these  primary  considera- 
tions thus  suggested  we  may  add  those  of  a  no  less  important 
character  which  result  from  the  nature  of  materials  not  employed 
formerly,  and  which  oblige  us  to  adopt  new  forms  adapted  to 
their  peculiar  properties.  May  we  not  draw  from  these  condi- 
tions thus  presented  inferences  which,  being  strictly  logical, 
will  satisfy  our  reason  and  harmonise  with  our  customs,  and 
will  not  exhibit  that  strange  contrast  which  is  now  presented 
between  the  habits  and  the  buildings  of  the  nation  ?  From  the 
appearance  and  arrangements  of  most  of  our  public  edifices, 
might  it  not  be  concluded  that  the  population  of  France  is 
tyrannised  over  by  conquerors  who  are  attempting  to  impose  on 
it  a  form  of  art  which  is  at  variance  with  its  tastes,  requirements, 
and  habits  ?  Is  not  this  imposition  of  an  art  upon  a  people, 
— which  somewhat  resembles  that  of  a  sacred  language  under  a 
theocratic  regime — a  most  extraordinary  phenomenon  ?  does  it 
not  in  some  degree  remind  us  of  the  custom  of  speaking  Latin 
persisted  in  by  the  ecclesiastical  courts  and  parliaments,  when 
the  attempt  was  made  to  express  ideas  in  that  language,  and 
indicate  objects  which  were  utterly  unknowai  in  the  empire  of 
the  Ctesars  ?  Fancy  a  railway  director  speaking  of  scrip,  pre- 
ference shares,  rolling  stock,  working  of  the  line,  stations, 
tmmels,  ballast,  cuttings,  and  embankments,  sleepers,  and  rails, 
locomotives  and  carriages,  points  and  level  crossings,  in  Latin  ! 
What  a  ridiculous  jargon  would  be  the  result !    Why  then  should 


112  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

that  wliich  would  appear  ridiculous  in  the  case  just  mentioned 
be  habitually  adopted  in  architecture  ?  And  why  torture 
ancient  forms  of"  art  to  force  them  to  expi'ess  requirements  and 
appliances  which  had  no  existence  when  those  forms  were 
invented. 

I  know  by  experience  the  difficulties  that  will  have  to  be 
encountered  by  those  who  make  it  then-  chief  consideration  to 
consult  reason  and  follow  its  decisions,  mstead  of  yielding  to  the 
dictates,  imperious  as  vague  and  undefined,  of  the  powerful  coterie 
which  for  its  own  advantage  keeps  watch  and  ward  over  all  the 
communications  between  the  profession  of  architecture  and  the 
public  services.  I  can  miderstand  the  weaknesses  which  such  a 
regime  encourages,  and  I  sincerely  symjoathise  with  them ;  but 
let  there  be  no  misapprehension  as  to  the  fact  that  this  is  a 
question  of  life  and  death  to  the  architect.  This  colourless 
scepticism,  this  absence  of  well-defined  views,  this  utter  ignoring 
of  principles,  this  pusillanimous  cringing  to  irrational  dogmas, 
the  mental  inertia  that  urges  us  to  swim  with  the  stream  that 
we  may  get  a  Hving  and  not  make  oivrselves  enemies,  to  shelter 
ourselves  behind  prejudices  rather  than  examine  them,  is 
imperceptibly  degrading  the  ai'chitect  to  the  rank  of  a  mere 
designer,  if  he  has  some  little  ingenuity,  or  a  mere  clerk,  if  he 
has  not.  It  has  been  long  a  subject  of  complaint  among  archi- 
tects that  the  engineering  profession  is  constantly  tending  to 
thrust  them  into  the  background.  And  in  fact  it  must  be  so,  if 
there  are  not  found  among  them  some  brave  spirits,  some  men 
of  sufhcient  resolution  to  determine  that,  cost  what  it  may,  they 
will  get  out  of  the  grooves  of  routine  and  part  company  with  that 
grovelhng  and  hybrid  art  which  dreads  the  intervention  of  reason 
and  exammation  as  bats  ch-ead  the  sim.  It  is  not  the  diplomas 
of  the  school  that  can  save  them  from  the  decay  to  which  they 
are  ah'eady  succumbing ;  their  diplomas  will  but  enable  them  to 
obtain  positions  which  the  course  of  things  is  me\atably  render- 
ing more  and  more  subordinate  and  degrading.  The  only  thing 
that  can  raise  them  is  the  candid,  free,  and  vigorous  apphcation 
of  thoroughly  clear  and  well-defined  principles,  and  a  confidence 
in  those  principles,  sustained  by  a  resolute  spuit ;  for,  to  make  an 
architect,  as  to  make  a  physician  or  a  barrister,  in  the  fii'st  place 
we  mvist  have  a  man.     This  would  seem  to  have  been  forgotten. 

There  are  signs  indeed  that  the  day  of  sincerity  is  beginning 
to  dawn.  In  the  sciences  the  experimental  method  has  defini- 
tively superseded  hypothesis.  Philosophy  is  tending  more  and 
more  to  base  itself  on  physiology — the  rigorous  observation  of  the 
order  of  nature.  Pure  Metaphysics  are  in  their  dotage,  and 
even  rehgious  systems  where  intelligence  is  not  overborne  by 
creduUty,  are  subjected,  no  less  than  philosophical  systems,  the 


LECTURE  XIII.  113 

successive  phases  of  human  thought  and  the  chief  phenomena  of 
history,  to  the  sifting  of  criticism  and  reason. 

It  is  liigh  time  for  those  who  devote  themselves  freely  and 
without  prepossession  to  intellectual  work, — perhaps  it  is  pre- 
sumptuous to  rank  architects  among  such, — to  make  their 
election  ;  to  determine  whether  they  will  remain  attached  to 
doctrines  which  are  insisted  on  as  indisputable,  or  whether  they 
will  make  use  of  reason  and  reason  only  to  show  them  their 
road.  To  remain  outside  the  impulse  that  has  been  commu- 
nicated to  literatm'e,  to  science  and  philosophy,  is  to  condemn 
ourselves  to  a  speedy  dissolution.  Academical  regulations  and 
apologetics,  and  admmistrative  decrees  cannot  retard  by  a  single 
day  the  ruin  of  an  art  and  a  science, — for  architecture  is  both, 
— that  should  presume  to  base  itself  on  doctrines  which  may  not 
l)e  discussed.  Let  us  be  at  least  consistent.  Wliy  should 
liberty  of  thought  and  the  authority  of  reason,  whose  clauns  are 
asserted  in  the  domain  of  literature  and  science,  be  banished 
from  that  of  ai't  1  Most  of  the  writers  who  profess  hberal 
tendencies  base  their  convictions  on  a  profoimd  and  critical 
study  of  history  and  the  observation  of  social  phenomena.  It  is 
with  good  reason  that  authors  of  established  repute  among  us 
rely  on  such  conscientious  research  in  maintaining  their  opinions 
respecting  the  destinies  of  man.  And  m  fact  the  study  of 
history  would  be  only  a  futile  compilation,  if  it  were  limited 
to  the  mere  exhibition  of  facts, — if  it  did  not  endeavour  to 
collect  for  our  modem  civilisation  a  body  of  acquked  espeiience 
which  may  enable  it  to  draw  just  inferences  that  may  guide  its 
judgment  and  du-ect  its  actions.  Further  argument  is  in  fact 
needless.  The  poUtical  leaders  of  oiu*  times  have  learned  the 
art  of  governing,  and  have  acquii-ed  their  fame  and  predomi- 
nance through  the  study  of  the  past,  and  of  a  past  not  very 
remote  from  our  days. 

But  if  an  architect  has  followed  that  same  method  ;  if  he  has 
gone  to  search  in  the  past  for  elements  fitted  to  establish  and 
develop  certam  invariable  prmciples  :  if  from  these  elements  he 
undertakes  to  deduce  practical  apphances  suited  to  oiir  own 
times  with  all  the  consequences  naturally  ensuing,  people  say 
of  him  :  "  He  is  an  anticjuary,  who  would  make  us  hve  in 
Carlo vingian  houses  or  habitations  of  the  thirteenth  century." 

In  the  opinion  of  most  of  these  writers,  who,  ha\-ing  deeply 
studied  the  history  of  civilisation,  think  it  strange  (and  not  un- 
reasonably) that  advantage  is  not  taken  of  the  knowledge  which 
has  been  acquii-ed  of  the  past  to  aid  in  sohing  the  difficulties  of 
the  present — the  architect  who  would  be  considered  a  "  practical 
man," — a  representative  of  the  age — has  no  need  of  considerable 
knowledge,  but  may  be  expected  to  produce  from  his  own  \\\\- 

VOL.  II.  II 


lU  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

furnished  brains  new  forms,  an  experience  enabling  him  to  apply 
new  elements,  and  all  the  inferences  and  solutions  which  the 
practice  of  his  art  may  reqviii-e.  As  for  those  who,  having 
studied,  link  by  link,  the  long  chain  of  transformations  and 
phases  of  progress  through  which  art  has  ^jassed,  presume  to 
add  a  link,  they  are  to  be  classed  as  mere  archaeologists,  capable 
of  nothing  but  patching  up  the  remains  of  former  ages.  And  (I 
may  observe,  in  passing)  this  epithet  "  archseologist," — ^which  is  a 
flattering  title,  I  allow, — is  given  to  a  certain  class  of  architects 
only  with  a  view  to  repel  them  from  new  applications  of  their 
art.  Architects  whose  studies  of  the  past  have  been  limited  to 
the  period  between  the  age  of  Pericles  and  that  of  Constantine, 
are  specially  excepted  from  this  class  of  archseologists ;  conse- 
quently it  is  reckoned  safe  to  intrust  them  with  the  architectural 
undertakings  of  our  times.  An  architect  is  acci^sed  of  making 
art  retrograde  only  when  his  study  of  the  past  has  not  stopped 
short  at  the  fall  of  the  Roman  Empire. 

I  have  sometimes  put  the  question,  and  I  put  it  once  more  : 
"  How  is  it  possible  for  an  architect  whose  studies  of  the  past 
have  been  limited  to  the  arts  of  Greece  and  Rome,  to  be  qualified 
for  erecting  buddmgs  characteristic  of  our  times,  and  preparing 
the  way  for  the  architecture  of  the  future  ?  and  why,  if  an 
architect  has  studied  not  only  these  arts,  but  also  those  of  the 
periods  that  are  nearer  to  our  own,  should  he  be  so  jealously 
suspected  of  wishing  to  take  us  bach  ?  "  This  question  has  never 
been  answered  after  any  other  fashion  than  that  of  the  Marquis 
in  the  Critique  de  VJ^coh  des  femvies. 

Having  the  good  fortune  to  be  able  at  the  present  time  to 
contemplate  these  jjitiable  inconsistencies  as  a  cool  spectator ; 
in  fact,  as  far  as  I  myself  am  concerned,  being  really  under  an 
obligation  to  the  powerful  coterie  respecting  whose  influence  on 
my  own  position  I  may  say, 

"  Deus  nobis  hsec  otia  fecit," — • 
I  have  certainly  no  personal  interest  to  serve  in  combating  these 
prejudices,  which  have  their  ridiculous  and  even  their  barbarous 
side  (as  have  all  prejudices)  ;  since  there  is  nothing  that,  in  my 
view,  is  worth  consideration  in  comparison  with  that  independ- 
ence which  the  study  and  search  for  the  true  secures  :  the  only 
motive  that  impels  me  is  an  instinctive  revolt  against  oppression 
of  any  kind.  There  are  some  natures  which  are  disheartened  by 
the  weakness  and  defection  of  those  who  should  have  aided 
them  ;  others,  on  the  contrary,  deem  themselves  happy  in  being 
able  to  devote  their  leisure  to  the  task  of  infusmg  a  little 
coui'age  into  the  in-esolute,  combating  errors  which  are  cleverly 
maintained,  and  throwing  some  light  on  questions  which  are 
purposely  rendered   obscure   to   an   indifferent   public   and    to 


LECTURE  XIII.  115 

studious  youth.     These  efforts,  however  feeble  their  apparent 
results,  bring  with  them  their  own  recompence. 

Only  a  weak  judgment  and  a  superficial  acquaintance  with 
the  liistory  of  ideas  could  hinder  us  from  perceiving  that  the 
silence  or  vacancy  with  which  an  opmion  is  suiTounded  is  a 
margin  that  really  adds  to  its  importance. 

Besides,  what  remains  to  be  tried  in  architecture  after  the 
extravagances  w^e  have' witnessed  ?  Such  aberrations  inevitably 
provoke  a  reaction.  Is  it  not  the  duty  of  all  men — of  all  who 
are  sincerely  and  earnestly  interested  in  the  matter — to  endeav- 
our, however  httle  they  may  be  able  to  accomplish,  to  give  this 
reaction  some  fixed  principles — a  base  of  operation  determined 
by  reason  and  the  conscientious  study  of  what  has  been  attempted 
in  former  times,  and  of  the  resources  and  requu-ements  of  the 
present  ? 

We  can  understand  how  persons  who  are  ignorant  of  the 
art  of  construction  should  maintain  that  certain  materials — iron 
for  instance — cannot  be  used  for  great  public  monumental  build- 
ing ;  for  iron  has  not  hitherto  been  used  in  our  public  edifices 
in  ways  accordant  with  its  properties.  It  may  be  pleaded  that 
what  has  never  been  discovered  is  undiscoverable ;  but  it  is 
somewhat  difficult  to  understand  how  professional  men  should 
be  wilhng  to  admit  this  view  ;  or  how,  if  they  do  accept  it,  they 
should  apply  forms  to  iron  which  the  arts  of  bygone  ages  gave 
to  other  materials,  such  as  marble  or  stone.  The  more  reasonable 
view  would  seem  to  be  that,  if  iron  is  incapable  of  being  adapted 
to  architectural  forms,  it  should  not  be  used  in  our  pubhc  build- 
ings ;  while  on  the  other  hand,  if  it  is  thought  necessary  to  em- 
ploy it,  such  forms  should  be  given  to  it  as  harmonise  with  its 
qualities  and  indicate  its  use.  This  is  not  merely  a  question  of 
art,  but  of  economy.  To  use  cast-iron  for  supports  on  account 
of  its  rigidity,  and  then  to  cover  it  with  brick  and  stucco,  or 
marble,  is  to  pay  for  two  supjjorts  instead  of  one  which  would 
have  been  suflicient.  To  clisguise  iron  vaulting  by  biuying 
it  in  masonry  is  to  belie  the  construction,  and  to  employ 
double  the  quantity  of  materials  required.  Would  it  not  be 
more  natural  to  endeavour  to  give  these  materials  the  forms 
suitable  to  them,  and  to  arrange  the  architectural  features 
accordingly  ?  That  this  has  not  yet  been  accomplished  I  admit, 
but  is  its  attainment  an  impossibility?  and  should  we  not 
endeavour  to  accomplish  it  ?  Forms  proper  to  the  nature  of 
the  materials  employed  may  not  have  been  discovered  in  a  single 
day,  or  by  a  single  artist,  even  though  a  man  of  genius ;  but  it 
is  desirable  to  begin.  For  in  architecture  a  true  and  rational 
form  reveals  itself  only  after  a  series  of  efforts  and  trials  methodi- 
cally conducted.     It  was  only  after  some  years   of  endeavour 


IIG  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

that  the  Greeks,  ingenious  though  they  were,  invented  the  Doric 
Order  ;  but  while  advancing  it  to  perfection  they  did  not  amuse 
themselves  on  the  road ;  they  did  not  seek  hither  and  thither 
for  a  variety  of  sesthetic  expression.  Having  adopted  a  principle 
they  never  lost  sight  of  it  for  a  moment ;  never  separating  the 
true  from  the  expedient,  and  never  imagining  that  the  beautiful 
can  manifest  itself  apart  from  sound  reason,  sincerity,  and 
utility. 

Is  it  not  an  extraordinary  assumption  that  the  architect'  is 
limited  to  the  employment  of  certain  materials,  if  he  would 
obtain  beautiful  forms  1  Beauty,  in  our  opinion,  lays  claim  to  a 
wider  empire  ;  it  is  the  true  and  fitly  chosen  expression,  in  the 
particular  material  at  our  command,  of  the  physical  or  moral 
requirements  we  have  to  satisfy. 

To  suppose  that  beauty  can  be  the  result  of  falsehood  is  a 
heresy  in  art  wliich  the  Greeks  would  have  repudiated.  But,  as 
we  have  frequently  remarked,  and  shall  probably  have  occasion 
to  repeat,  our  "monumental"  architecture  is  a  perpetual  falsehood. 
As  a  rule,  all  visible  forms  in  our  biuldings  are  useless,  sei-ving 
only  the  purpose  of  ornament, — aU  necessary  means  are  carefully 
disguised  beneath  an  appearance  which  often  contravenes  them. 
In  fact,  were  it  worth  the  trouble,  each  of  our  public  buildings 
might  be  shown  on  analysis  to  consist  of  two  distinct  works ; 
one, — the  true  one — the  structure ;  the  other, — that  which  is 
exhibited  to  the  eye — the  outward  appearance;  very  unlike 
each  other,  and  a  comparison  between  which  would  greatly 
astonish  the  public. 

Those  pUlars,  which  you  are  led  to  suppose  are  of  sohd 
masonry,  are  really  cases  of  bricks  covered  with  stucco,  enclosmg 
cast-iron  columns.  That  vaulting,  whose  structure  simulates  a 
work  in  stone,  is  only  a  skeleton  of  iron  coated  over  with 
plaster.  Those  majestic  ranges  of  columns  sustain  nothing ;  it 
is  behind  them  that  the  real  supports  are  erected.  Those  open- 
ings which  are  quadi'angular  outside,  present  in  the  interior  a 
row  of  arches.  Behind  these  j^ediments  which  simvdate  a  roof 
penetrating  another  roof,  passes  a  gutter.  Of  those  enormous 
iron  gu'ders  which  you  have  seen  hoisted  up  mto  the  building, 
you  will  vainly  seek  a  trace  when  the  work  is  finished ;  those 
necessary  means  of  construction  Avhich  form  the  bony  framework 
of  the  building  are  carefully  disguised  beneath  a  parasitical 
ornamentation.  And  since  no  one  will  ever  see  those  essential 
parts,  no  one  wUl  be  able  to  judge  whether  they  are  not  much 
stronger  than  is  needful ;  no  one  will  be  able  to  know  whether 
those  concealed  apj^liances  are  judiciously  and  economically  con- 
ti-ived.  As  the  a]>pliances  in  question  are  not  exhibited,  the 
architect  has  no  interest  in  employing  them  suitably ;  he  wLU  be 


LECTURE  XI 11.  117 

liberal  or  sparing  of  them  according  as  he  is  at  liberty  to  be 
extravagant,  or  feai's  to  be  lavish. 

It  is  certain,  however,  that  many  of  these  architectural  false- 
hoods— for  what  else  can  we  call  them  ? — originate  in  motives  of 
economy.  Our  architects,  to  whom  the  system  of  instruction 
now  in  vogue  takes  good  care  not  to  impart  principles,  are 
anxious  in  every  case  to  make  a  show  of  dignity  even  when  tliis 
is  quite  out  of  keeping  with  the  commonplace  materials  at  their 
disposal.  They  do  not  dare  frankly  to  exhibit  the  material  used, 
because  they  make  it  a  sine  qua  non  to  adopt  forms  ^\■ith  which 
that  material  does  not  harmonise ;  and  through  hidifterence,  or 
rather  perhaps  through  fear  of  coming  into  conflict  with  the 
powerful  defenders  of  so-called  classical  doctiines,  they  avoid 
seekmg  for  forms  appropriate  to  the  material. 

How  often  have  I  not  ascertained  that  architects  have  sub- 
mitted implicitly  to  the  established  routine,  in  order  to  get  a 
plan  "passed"  by  one  of  those  administrative  boards  which  are 
intolerant  of  any  innovation,  and  full  of  indulgence  for  self- 
abnegation  ?  The  question  is.  To  be,  or  not  to  be.  It  must  not 
be  supposed,  however,  that  it  is  by  active  opposition  savouring 
of  persecution,  that  any  show  of  boldness  or  new  ideas  exhibited 
in  the  works  submitted  to  then-  appreciation  are  stifled  by  these 
Areopaguses.  .  .  .  By  no  means!  Academical  usages  furnish 
qiiite  other  means.  The  few  plans  that  presume  to  deviate  from 
the  vulgar  track  are  at  their  very  appearance  overwhelmed  with 
eulogies ;  a  "  but "  however  follows,  skilfully  inserted  among 
these  laudations,  which  crushes  attempts  at  innovation.  And 
the  "  but "  is  suflficient,  with  the  help  of  an  administrative  body 
unwilling  to  assume  any  responsibihty,  to  destroy  whatever  was 
original  in  the  contrivances  suggested.  By  those  who  have 
imdergone  experiences  of  this  kind — and  to  whom  among  archi- 
tects have  they  not  occurred  ? — it  is  found  more  advantageous 
to  preserve  a  prudent  inoflensive  mediocrity,  secured  against 
those  troublesome  "buts;"  for  this  wiU  procure  for  them  the 
privilege  in  their  turn,  when  they  have  been  sufiiciently  satu- 
rated with  vulgarity,  of  cleverly  putting  "spokes  in  the  wheel" 
of  professional  brethren  who  would  endeavoiir  to  emancipate 
themselves. 

This  is  the  way  to  make  our  successors  compensate  us  for 
the  annoyances  which  our  predecessors  have  inflicted  on  us. 
And  thus  is  transmitted  from  generation  to  generation  the 
"  damper  "  which  has  been  contrived  and  carefully  kept  in  con- 
dition by  the  Acaderaie  des  Beaux  Arts  in  la  belle  France ;  but 
this  explains  why  we  have  no  architecture,  and  why  oiu'  govern- 
mental budgets  allot  considerable  sums  for  the  erection  of 
public  buildings   that   are  utterly  at  variance  with  our  social 


118  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

condition,    and   which   will  offer   insoluble  problems  to  futuie 
generations. 

But  even  now — and  we  must  not  allow  the  presence  of  a 
great  evil  to  make  us  forget  more  favourable  aspects,  however 
small  their  proportion, — we  can  discern  the  first  symptoms  of  a 
reaction  against  the  excesses  of  triumphant  vulgarity.  Some 
architects  who  preserve  a  certain  independence  of  charactei',  and 
who  are  determined  to  adhere  to  principles,  educate  themselves 
as  constructors  :  that  is,  they  endeavour  to  give  to  the  materials 
employed  the  forms  which  their  natiu'e  dictates.  These  architecta 
have  not,  it  is  true,  a  control  over  the  most  important  works  of 
our  great  centres  ;  but  a  nucleus  of  young  and  inquking  minds 
has  nevertheless  formed  itself  around  them,  who  may  control 
the  '  destinies  of  the  futiure  if  they  will  resist  the  seductive 
influence  of  easy  successes.  I  would  then  reason  a  Uttle  with 
the  scattered  bvit  tolerably  numerous  members  of  this  school  of 
independent  students.  Let  us  consider  how  we  might  proceed 
in  making  use  of  the  means  which  modern  manufacturing  skill 
furnishes  us,  strictly  caiTying  out  a  programme  of  requirements, 
and  seeking  for  the  forms  appropriate  to  the  nature  of  the 
materials  employed.^ 

Let  us  suppose  that  we  have  to  erect  an  Hotel  de  Ville  for  a 
town  of  third-rate  importance.  We  first  determine  on  a  plan 
such  as  all  would  recognise  as  suitable  and  presenting  a  certain 
variety  of  arrangements.  In  an  Hotel  de  Ville  there  would  be 
required  open  spaces,  office-rooms,  large  assembly-rooms,  easy 
approaches  and  secluded  apartments,  with  good  ventilation  and 
lighting  everywhere.  On  the  ground-floor  there  will  be  an 
entrance  hall,  a  wide  vestibule  communicating  with  the  various 
offices  and  committee  rooms,  opening  on  a  flight  of  steps  com- 
paratively wide  and  easily  ascended,  conductmg  to  the  first 
story, — the  grand  hall  for  fetes  and  public  meetings. 

It  is  evident  that  the  great  covered  spaces  should  be  amply 
lighted  with  lofty  ceilings,  and  easily  accessible,  while  the 
secondary  apartments,  the  various  office-rooms,  should  be 
comparatively  low.  The  following  therefore  are  th6  arrange- 
ments which  such  a  municipal  edifice  would  suggest.  Plates 
XXII.  and  XXII.  his  give  the  plans  of  the  several  stories  of  the 
building.  The  entrance  hall  has  a  wide  opening  on  the  street. 
It  gives  access  to  the  municijaal  offices  and  the  great  staircase 
that  conducts  to  the  grand  hall  of  the  first  story.  The  wings 
containing  the  offices  are  entresoled  and  have  their  own  special 
staircases.  The  apartments  of  the  entresol  are  put  in 
communication  by  a  gallery  which  surrounds  the  entrance  hall 

'  It  will  be  understood  that  in  the  examples  which  follow  it  is  not  asserted  that  the 
only  suitable  forms  are  suggested.     It  is  a  method  that  is  in  question. 


PL  .  XXII 


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LECTURE  XIII.  1 1 9 

on  three  sides,  and  whicli  is  itself  entered  by  tlie  great  stair- 
case. On  the  first  story,  in  the  roofing  of  the  wings,  are  the 
empkiyes'  i-ooms  ;  in  the  centre  the  grand  hall  for  public  meetings 
with  its  vestibide,  over  which  is  a  tribune  communicating  with 
a  gallery  going  round  the  hall.  Over  the  great  staircase  is 
erected  the  belfry  with  its  own  small  staircase.  During  public 
meetings  or  fetes  the  service  may  be  kept  up  through  the 
two  staircases  of  the  wings.  Along  the  front  of  the  grand 
hall  is  a  wide  balcony.  Plate  XXIII.  shows  the  elevation 
and  the  transverse  section  of  the  building.  Common  sense 
tells  us  that  a  large  hall  shoidd  not  present  an  exterior  such 
as  would  be  suitable  for  committee  rooms,  offices  or  mere 
living  rooms.  Uniformity  of  architectural  features  would  be 
absurd  in  such  a  case,  a  fact  which  the  ancients — who  are 
set  up  as  models,  but  who  are  not  imitated  in  the  matter — 
always  recognised ;  and  which  the  medigeval  builders,  whose 
methods  are  systematically  repudiated,  also  recognised  and  still 
more  frankly.  The  external  features  diftered  with  the  structure. 
While  for  buildings  destined  for  ofiices  and  dwelling-rooms,  a 
mode  of  construction  should  be  adopted  similar  to  that  which 
is  suited  for  private  houses,  it  is  on  the  other  hand  proper  that 
in  the  pai-t  destined  for  public  meetings  a  mode  of  construction 
should  be  employed  of  more  dignified  character  and  otherwise 
suited  to  this  particular  object.  Here  the  amplest  accommoda- 
tion shoidd  be  affoi'ded ;  supports  should  not  be  thickly  crowded 
together,  air  and  Ught  should  be  freely  distributed,  and  there 
should  be  ready  means  of  access.  It  should  be  remarked  that 
an  oblong  is  not  the  most  favourable  shape  for  meetings  and 
fetes.  A  hall  that  is  much  longer  than  it  is  wide — as  are  most 
of  the  great  halls  of  our  chateaux — is  most  suited  for  courts  of 
I'ustice  and  banquets,  whereas  the  square  form  suits  balls, 
concerts,  and  public  meetings.  Few  great  rooms  are  better 
adapted  for  these  purposes  than  the  Salle  des  Marechaux  in  the 
Tuiieries,  and  this  hall  is  square.  But  the  area  must  be  large. 
Now  the  haU  on  the  first  story  of  our  Hotel  de  Ville  is  fifty  feet 
square.  It  is  entered  through  a  vestibule,  but  the  partition 
between  the  vestibule  and  the  hall  rises  only  thirteen  feet  above 
the  floor,  and  is  only  wood- work,  to  give  more  ventilation  in  the 
hall ;  curtains  may,  on  occasion,  be  drawn  across  to  intercept  com- 
munication above.  On  the  ground-floor,  the  two  open  spaces  next 
to  the  interior  flight  of  steps,  to  the  right  and  left,  and  therefore 
raised  above  the  pavement  of  the  antechamber,  would  serve  as 
cloakrooms  for  visitors  at  fetes  or  similar  gatherings.  Besides 
the  tribune  which  forms  a  ceiling  over  the  vestibule,  and  is  well 
suited  for  an  orchestra,  balconies  surround  the  hall ;  these  enable 
the  public  to  see  what  is  going  on  in  the  middle  of  the  meeting. 


120  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE 

and  permit  a  supervision  of  the  chandeliers,  the  ^yindlasses  for 
raismg  which  are  placed  above,  between  the  ceiling  and  the 
outer  roof  The  tribune  opening  beneath  the  belfry  tower 
would  be  easUy  ventilated,  and  the  ventilation  may  be  regulated. 
Every  one  knows  that  galleries  jslaced  in  halls  of  this  kind,  in 
consequence  of  the  heat  produced  by  the  lights,  become  veritable 
ovens.  If  windows  ai'e  made  in  their  walls,  the  currents  of  air 
become  so  violent,  when  they  are  opened  at  the  wish  of  the 
audience,  that  it  is  impossible  to  remam  there.  The  belfry  tower 
produces  the  effect  of  a  wide  chimney,  the  draught  of  which 
can  be  regulated  so  as  to  change  the  air  more  or  less  quickly. 

Addresses  are  not  mifrequently  delivered  to  crowds  assem- 
bled outside  in  the  square  fronting  the  Hotel  de  Vtlle.  Our 
ancient  city  mansions  were  always  provided  with  balconies  suited 
to  this  purjaose,  and  frequently  even  with  covered  balconies.  Such 
a  balcony  should  be  included  in  the  designs  for  buildings  of  this 
kind.  I  have  therefore  draAvai  it  of  considerable  length  and  with 
a  width  of  about  six  feet.  Moreover  the  balcony  should  be 
covered ;  for  public  functionaries  should  not  be  obliged  to  hold 
umbrellas  over  them  while  speaking  or  reading  proclamations  to 
the  public.  Dignity  is  sacrificed  by  such  accompaniments,  and  it 
is  notorious  that  the  public,  especiaUy  m  France,  are  disposed  to 
turn  into  ridicule  ceremonials  whose  accessories  are  undignified. 
Perhaps  some  of  our  highly  imaginative  architects,  who  in  design- 
ing; their  buildinors  take  account  of  the  sun — i.e.  a  classical  sun 
45°  above  the  horizon,  but  who  do  not  condescend  to  notice  such 
insignificant  matters  as  rain  or  wind  or  heat, — may  censure  our 
programme,  as  entei'ing  into  details  unworthy  of  our  noble 
art.  Nevertheless  I  think  it  worth  while  to  add  that  this 
balcony  should  not  only  be  covered,  but  should  be  closed  at  the 
two  ends,  to  give  a  sheltered  and  quiet  retreat  to  any  who  wish 
to  stay  some  time  there.  Our  covered  balconies  of  mediaeval 
times  were  thus  constructed. 

Plate  XXIV.  shows  a  perspective  view  of  the  principal  part 
of  the  front,  with  the  balcony  closed  at  the  ends  and  covered 
by  a  glazed  awning. 

Having  shown  the  principal  arrangements  of  the  programme, 
let  us  consider  the  construction  in  which  we  have  thought  it 
desirable  to  assign  an  important  and  independent  part  to  iron. 

If,  as  remarked  before,  iron  is  destined  in  our  modern  build- 
ings only  to  serve  as  a  security  for  imperfect  masonry,  or  to 
disguise  its  pi-esence  beneath  parasitical  casings,  it  would  be  as 
well  for  us  to  let  it  alone,  and  to  build  as  they  used  to  build  in 
the  time  of  Louis  the  Fourteenth,  taking  forms  borrowed  fi-om  a 
doubtful  antiquity  and  overloading  them  with  a  hybrid  ornamen- 
tation.    But  if  ii'on  is  prescribed — not  p)^'0scrihed,  be  it  under- 


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LECTURE  XIII.  121 

stood, — -we  should  try  to  find  forms  suitable  to  its  properties  and 
manufacture  ;  we  ought  not  to  disguise  it,  but  seek  for  those 
forms  until  we  have  found  them.  I  do  not  assert  that  this  is  an 
easy  task,  but  the  solution  of  the  problem  ought  to  be  attempted. 
It  would  be  better  for  architects  to  devote  themselves  to  this 
endeavour,  though  the  first  attempts  may  be  artistically  incom- 
plete, than  to  pass  their  time  in  designing  "gingerbread"  fronts. 

The  gist  of  the  problem  is  the  supporting  of  a  floor  50  feet 
wide  and  60  feet  long.  To  ett'ect  this,  four  cast-iron  columns 
(see  the  ground-plan,  Plate  XXII.)  divide  the  entrance  hall  into 
three  bays, — two  of  24  feet  and  one  of  12  feet.  T-iron  joists  can 
be  used  for  bearings  of  24  feet ;  but  transverse  girders  restmg 
on  the  columns  are  requhed  to  receive  the  iron  joists.  As  the 
bearing  of  these  girders  is  only  24  feet,  they  are  easily  formed 
eithej-  with  riveted  plate-and-angle  iron ,  or  with  some  system  of 
iron  trussing  of  sufficient  strength  to  support  the  joists  and  any 
weight  they  may  have  to  carry.  It  must  be  acknowledged  that 
girders  of  plate-and-angle  iron  have  not  a  pleasing  appeai'ance 
in  the  interior  of  a  building.  An  iron-box  girder  made  in 
the  shape  of  a  wooden  beam  is  all  very  well,  but  is  very 
heavy  and  is  expensive,  and  does  not  present  the  appear- 
ance befitting  the  nature  of  iron.  These  box  gu'ders  are 
not  easily  fastened  on  cast-iron  columns ;  they  requu-e  vei-y 
widely-spreading  capitals.  It  would  therefore  appear  that  some 
other  system  should  be  adopted  here.  Accordingly  we  give  a 
detail,  figure  1,  of  the  system  proposed.'  Cast-iron  colunuis  of 
moderate  length  are  more  easily  procured  than  very  long  ones. 
The  two  columns  which  rise  all  the  way  from  the  ground  to  the 
imderside  of  the  gallery  of  the  first-floor  ai-e  therefore  made 
in  two  lengths — one  of  26  ft.  6  in.,  the  other  of  23  ft.  6  in., 
fastened  together  at  A  with  four  bolts  (see  plan  of  capital  a). 
The  two  other  anterior  columns  also  consist  of  a  lower  part,  of 
26  ft.  6  in.,  and  a  junction  part  of  4  ft.  6  in.  in  height,  fastened 
together  m  the  same  way.  At  b  we  have  the  horizontal  section 
of  the  part  of  the  columns  which  receives  the  transverse  trusses 
c  supporting  the  floor  joists  and  the  longitudinal  bracmg- 
trusses  g. 

Tlie  transverse  trusses  supporting  the  joists  consist  of  an 
upper  bar  d  of  single  T-iron,  whose  section  is  represented  at  d, 
and  an  under  bar  e  of  single  T-iron,  whose  section  is  sho^\^l  at  e. 
These  bars  are  connected  at  their  junction  with  the  columns,  by 
vertical  bands  h,  formmg  brackets,  forked  for  the  upper  fastening 
as  shown  in  detail  G,  to  allow  a  passage  for  the  vertical  flange 
of  the  T-iron  d.     Similarly  at  the  junction  of  the  two  half  trusses 


1  This  detail  presents  the  joining  of  the  girders  or  trusses  with  the  columns  under  the 
floor  of  the  great  upper  hall  (see  section,  Phite  XXIII.). 


122 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


'^m 


Fio.  1.— Details  of  the  Great  Floor. 


LECTURE  XIII.  123 

(see  detail  f),  bands,  bent  to  an  angle,  receive  the  under  T-irons, 
which  abut  against  the  face  of  these  bands,  and,  forked,  the 
upper  T-iron,  which  alone  is  m  one  piece  for  the  whole  length 
of  the  beai'ing.  The  two  bands,  of  which  one  is  shown  at  l,  are 
coupled  by  bolts.  To  render  these  trusses  rigid,  double  scrolls 
(see  section  d  at  I)  of  1  j  by  |  inch  ii'on  are  riveted  on  the  flanges 
of  the  two  upper  and  under  T-irons ;  and  the  whole  system  is 
still  further  stiflened  by  leaf  ornaments  of  sheet-ii'on  m  riveted 
on  the  outer  faces  of  these  scrolls.^ 

The  longitudinal  bracing  trusses  need  not  be  so  strong.  Flat 
iron  instead  of  T-ii"on  wiU  suffice,  and  single  scrolls  with  orna- 
ments of  sheet-iron  on  the  two  faces.  These  trusses  are  secured 
to  the  columns,  not  by  bolts,  whose  holes  weaken  the  cast- 
iron  of  the  supports,  but  by  collars  N  (see  also  section  b).  On 
the  flat  of  the  upper  T-uon  D  rest  the  joists  end  to  end,  con- 
nected by  coupling  plates  (see  l).  These  joists  (see  section  k) 
are  of  double  T-iron  with  additional  flanges  o,  intended  as  a 
skewback  for  the  hollow  brick  arcliing.  There  remains  therefore 
an  unfilled  space  p  above  the  lower  flanges,  in  which  may  be 
fitted  either  panels  of  moulded  plaster  or  slabs  of  terra-cotta, 
or  a  filhng-ia  of  beaten  sheet-iron  s,  or  even  panels  of  wood. 
The  empty  space  between  these  panels  and  the  arching  will 
greatly  contribute  to  check  the  resonance  of  these  iron  floorings  ; 
a  resonance  that  would  be  disagi-eeable  if  they  were  fiUed  in  with 
hollow  bricks  or  with  cellular  squares  of  plaster. 

It  is  certain  that  trussed  girders  so  contrived  do  not 
weigh  so  miTch  as  ii-on-box  girders  would  do.  They  may 
weigh  a  little  more  than  ordinary  single  plate  gu-ders  with 
riveted  angle-irons  and  flat-plates,  but  they  have  a  more  decora- 
tive appearance  and  are  more  easily  fastened  to  the  columns. 
If  the  architect  contrives  his  ground-plan  as  we  have  done  here 
so  as  to  present  equal  spaces,  and  thus  require  only  one  or  two 
patterns  of  scrolls  and  of  sheet-iron  ornaments,  with  the  mechani- 
cal appliances  now  possessed  by  our  large  smiths'  shops,  these 
trusses  may  be  cheaply  made  and  wUl  scarcely  cost  more  than 
simple  plate-girders  with  riveted  angle-u'ons. 

If  we  examme  Plate  XXIII.  we  shall  see  that  the  galleries 
are  supported  by  means  of  the  same  system  of  open-work  gu'ders. 
But  here^  as  the  weights  are  less  considerable,  the  tnisses  may 
be  slighter  and  shallower  and  have  scrolls  on  one  side  only  of 
the  T-irons, — the  side  facing  the  haU. 

These  brief  explanations  make  it  apparent  that  the  iron- work 
is  here  independent  of  the  masonry, — that  it  is  nowhere  con- 

1  We  have  seen  trussed  girders  made  on  this  principle  tested  by  a  relatively  considerable 
weight  without  deflecting.  When  single  T-irou  does  not  afford  sufficient  strength  or 
width  of  flange,  angle-irons  can  be  used,  riveted  together  and  covered  by  a  plate  as 
shown  in  section  S, 


124  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

cealed,  and  that  it  forms  part,  whatever  its  eftect  (for  this  is  a 
matter  of  taste,  and  every  one  is  at  liberty  to  adopt  the  forms 
he  considers  suitable),  of  the  interior  decoration.  Supposing  the 
iron-Avork  to  be  painted  and  gilt,  we  can  readily  imagine  that 
the  effect  would  be  extremely  rich.  Objection  might  be  made 
to  the  thinness  of  the  forms  proper  to  metal.  This  aspect  of 
meagreness  is  in  fact  very  unpleasiug  when  the  iron-work  is 
placed  in  a  position  of  competition, — when  it  is  mixed  up,  as  it 
were,  with  architectural  stone-work.  No  such  effect  is  produced 
when  the  iron  is  not  put  in  competition  with  the  architectural 
forms  proper  to  stone-work.  But  here,  in  these  interiors,  we  have 
only  the  four  walls, — no  ornamentation  in  stone-work.  These 
walls  should  be  decorated  with  painting  and  wainscoting ;  and 
both  painting  and  joiner's  work  harmonise  with  the  scale  of 
ornamentation  appropriate  to  the  iron-work. 

In  the  front,  on  the  contrary,  we  have  endeavoured  to 
combine  iron  with  stone,  though  leaving  iron-work  a  distinct 
and  mdependent  part.  The  iron-work  is  not  built  in,  but  is 
simply  rested  or  grooved  in.  The  glazed  awning  of  the  balcony 
is  terminated  in  front  by  a  cast-iron  gutter,  which  receives 
the  T-ii'ons  that  form  the  glazing  bars.  The  gutter  stands 
clear,  with  drips  and  overlaps.  We  shall  presently  examine 
the  construction. 

A  glance  at  Plate  XXIV.,  which  gives  m  perspective  a  part 
of  the  front  of  the  edifice,  will  show  us  that  the  iron  balcony  and 
the  segmental  curves  between  the  piers  beneath  the  windows, 
simply  rest  on  projecting  ledges  left  for  that  purpose  in  the 
stone-work.  The  curves  consist  of  two  plates  of  iron  with  angle- 
irons  and  braces ;  panels  of  beaten  sheet-iron  fill  the  spaces. 
As  to  the  balconies,  the  flooring  joists  are  fastened  by  means  of 
angle-plates  and  bolts  to  the  double  T-iron  forming  a  breast- 
summer  on  the  outside.  Supported  by  the  stone  brackets  are 
pedestals,  likewise  of  stone,  into  which  are  grooved  the  balus- 
trades, and  on  which  stand  the  cast-iron  columns  that  carry  the 
glazed  awning.  To  be  efficient,  however,  the  awning  over  a 
balcony  should  exceed  the  projection  of  the  balcony  itself 
These  cast-iron  columns  are  therefore  designed  to  receive  cast- 
u'on  brackets,  to  which  are  fastened  the  trusses  that  support  the 
bearing  of  the  gutter.  These  trusses  are  not  in  the  plane  of  the 
columns,  but  a  certain  distance  outside  them  so  as  thoroughly 
to  shelter  the  balcony.  The  ends  of  the  gutter  rest  on  the 
front  of  the  stone  projections  enclosing  the  sides  of  the  loggia. 

Fig.  2  gives  the  heads  of  these  two  columns,  and  explains 
the  fastenings  of  the  cast-  and  wrought-iron  pieces  which  receive 
the  gutter  and  the  glazing.  At  A  is  drawn  the  section  througli 
a  6  of  the  vertical  support.     The  capital  of  the  column  has  four 


LECTURE  XIII. 


125 


Fig.  2.-  Details  uf  llie  Glazed  Awuiujj 


126  LECTURKH  ON  AlWllITEGTURE. 

projections  forming  corbels  to  receive  the  cast-iron  brackets  c, 
the  half-truss  c,  and  the  two  heels  of  the  lateral  ribs  on  which 
rests  the  double  T-iron  D  receiving  the  glazing  bars.  The  cast- 
iron  brackets  B  have  a  shoidder  at  e  which  hinders  the  giving 
out  of  these  double  T-irons  d  ;  and  at  E,  grooves  with  holei^  for 
bolts  to  secui'B  the  trusses  that  carry  the  gutter  and  stiffen  the 
whole  structure.  These  brackets  are  terminated  at  their  outer 
extremity  in  the  wtiy  shown  at  g  in  the  detail  G,  so  as  to  receive 
the  wrought-iron  supports  h  which  secure  the  junctions  of  the 
gutter  (see  /(').  The  trusses  c,  at  their  upper  extremity,  hook 
into  staples  firmly  fastened,  or  rather  built,  into  the  stone-work 
(see  detail  k).  Thus  the  structure  in  iron  is  independent  of  the 
structure  in  stone  ;  it  may  be  put  ujd  or  taken  down  withovit  in 
the  least  affecting  the  latter. 

The  use  of  cast-iron  gutters  in  buildings  is  very  desirable ; 
but  the  manner  in  which  they  are  to  be  contrived  and  connected 
demands  very  careful  consideration.  The  mere  fixing  of  cast- 
iron  gutters  end  to  end,  and  jointing  them  with  putty  or  lead, 
is  only  an  expedient ;  it  is  not  an  efiicient  method.  Cast-iron 
gutters  should  be  isolated,  and  should  not  require  either  putty 
or  lead  to  effect  their  purpose.  In  the  example  given  here,  the 
gutter  of  the  glazed  roof  is  made  in  five  pieces,  three  in  front, 
two  at  the  ends  ;  the  longest  of  these  divisions — the  middle 
one — has  a  length  of  2.5  feet,  which  presents  no  difficulties. 
The  two  cheeks  of  the  gutter  are  of  equal  height  all  round,  but 
the  bottoms  are  inclined,  and  have  at  then-  points  of  junction 
a  drip,  shown  at  r  in  the  detail  I,  and  at  r  in  the  detail  H. 
Along  the  vertical  cheeks,  these  lengths  of  gutter  are  connected 
— like  down-spouts — with  flanges.  As  the  bottom  of  the  under 
length  I  has  a  slightly  raised  edge,  the  water  cannot  run  out 
between  the  joints.  The  angle  junctions  of  the  gutters  are  con- 
trived as  shown  at  N.  As  a  means  for  connecting  the  gutters  in 
front,  we  have  indicated  the  wrought-u'on  fastening  h ;  at  the 
angles,  flat  plates  are  sufficient  (see  the  perspective  view,  Plate 
XXIV.).  But  bolt-holes  must  not  be  made  through  the  cheeks 
of  these  gutters ;  screw  dowels,  indicated  in  detail  h,  have 
therefore  been  cast  in,  and  receive  the  nuts  that  will  tighten 
the  wrought-iron  fastenings  and  angle-plates.-' 

It  seems  vinnecessary  to  continvie  these  examples,  which  are 
given,  as  I  have  said,  merely  to  indicate  a  method,  and  not  as 
architectural  forms.  Ovir  architects  are  quite  able  to  invent,  if 
they  will  give  themselves  the  trouble,  better  designs  and  more 
pleasing  forms  ;  but  they  must  make  up  their  minds  utterly  to 

1  This  method  of  fixing  pieces  of  wrought-iron  in  east-iron,  in  running  the  metal,  is 
much  in  vogue  in  England,  but  has  hitherto  been  little  employed  in  France.  It  is  how- 
ever an  excellent  plan. 


LECTURE  XI 11.  127 

abandon  worn-out  types,  expensive  and  inconvenient  common- 
places, and  determine  resolutely  to  consider  the  requirements  of 
the  case,  and  not  less  resolutely  to  make  use  of  the  materials  and 
practical  appliances  which  our  age  supplies.  That  in  the  time  of 
Louis  the  Fourteenth  the  Physician- Architect  PeiTault  should 
have  been  commissioned  to  design  orders  of  architecture  bearing 
the  date  of  the  Grand  Steele,  and  that  it  should  then  have  been 
tii-mly  believed  that  new  principles  were  thereby  founded  and  a 
wQVs^  era  commenced,  is  quite  conceivable ;  but  in  these  days  it 
is  not  by  giving  a  module  more  or  less  to  a  column  that  we  hope 
to  cause  a  revolution  in  the  art  of  architecture.  A  revolution  in 
arclutecture  is  to  be  brought  about  only  by  reverting  to  common- 
sense  methods  instead  of  adhering  to  classic  formulas  and  the 
prejudices  of  coteries. 

In  art  as  in  philosophy — -and  they  are  allied — even  eclecti- 
cism has  had  its  day ;  we  no  longer  deem  it  advisable  to  welcome 
all  views,  but  only  those  which  are  rational,  dictated  by  the 
experimental  method  and  by  a  course  of  logical  deductions.  We 
are  absolutely  obliged  to  proceed  in  this  manner  when  we  have 
to  build  warehouses,  factories,  and  farm  buildings  ;  why  change 
our  method  in  the  case  of  public  buildings  ?  By  what  right  does 
the  architect  claim  to  inflict  on  the  public  architectural  features 
which  do  not  harmonise  with  its  customs  or  its  requirements, 
and  for  which  it  has  to  pay  at  a  most  extravagant  rate  ?  Will 
not  the  future  reproach  us  bitterly  for  having  thus  wasted  our 
resources  by  an  expenditure  out  of  all  jaroportion  to  the  results 
obtained  ?  If  architects  suppose  that  the  public  will  always 
remain  indifferent  to  these  questions,  and  that  it  will  continue 
to  remain  in  ignorance  of,  and  to  respect,  those  pretentious  dog- 
mas behind  which  "  high  art "  ensconces  itself,  they  are  mistaken. 
The  public  will  bring  to  bear  on  these  questions,  as  on  many 
others,  the  light  of  investigation  ;  and  its  judgments  will  be 
severe  in  proportion  to  the  pains  that  have  been  taken  to  deceive 
it.  Has  it  not  already  remarked  the  cost  of  this  purposeless 
architecture  originating  in  the  caprice  of  a  few  ?  Has  it  not 
seen,  despite  of  boarded  and  canvassed  partitions,  that  the 
design  of  entire  portions  of  buildings  has  been  altered  during 
their  construction,  without  any  apparent  reason  for  substituting 
one  form  in  place  of  another  ^.  Now  I  would  ask  whether, 
if  the  original  features  had  been  the  well-considered  outcome 
of  the  conditions  imperative  in  any  rational  construction,  such 
an  alteration  could  have  been  called  for  I  Granting  even  that 
the  appearance  of  the  first  was  not  satisfactory,  had  the  archi- 
tect no  good  reasons  to  give  for  adhering  to  them  ?  But 
when  mere  fancy  or  caprice  has  originated  a  form  in  art,  and  it 
is  alleged  that  such  form  is  unpleasing,  or  too  rich,  or  too  poor, 


128  LECTURES  OX  ARCHITECTURE. 

what  grounds  can  jou  bring  forward  for  retaining  it  ?  Hence 
this  irrational  and  capricious  architecture  of  ours  is  at  the  mercy 
of  the  first  comer,  whether  he  be  a  mere  ignoramus  or  a  man  of 
taste  :  any  one  may  demand  this  or  that  alteration  according 
to  the  fancy  of  the  moment !  No  longer  based  on  essential 
princi2:)les,  the  rigorous  consideration  of  the  requirements  of  the 
case,  and  the  material  appliances  available,  it  cannot  assert  the 
pri\'ileges  claimed  by  art,  but  falls  into  the  category  of  ohjets  de 
luxe — the  nicknacks  that  one  buys  or  gets  rid  of  according  to 
the  fashion  of  the  day,  and  whose  value  is  altogether  conven- 
tional. 

When  the  public  first  remark  the  appearance  of  iron  em- 
ployed as  the  principal  means  of  construction  in  a  public  build- 
ing, they  ai-e  inclined  to  associate  it  with  structures  of  the  same 
material  employed  in  a  railway  termmus,  a  market,  or  a  factory. 
But  is  it  by  masking  this  material,  as  many  of  us  have  endeav- 
oured to  do,  that  the  criticism  thus  arising  can  be  obviated  ?  I 
think  not ;  rather,  on  the  contrary,  by  rendering  thoroughly 
apparent  the  veritable  function  of  this  material.  It  is  evident 
that  the  attempts  hitherto  made  in  this  direction  are  timid, 
showing  a  lack  of  courage  to  depart  from  certain  time-honoured 
architectm'al  forms  which  ai'e  not  appropriate  to  the  new  appli- 
ances at  oiu'  command. 

Iron  possesses  very  useful  properties,  and  we  should  make  it 
our  object  to  utilise  and  manifest  these  properties,  not  to  disguise 
them.  A  practical  architect  might  not  unnaturally  conceive  the 
idea  of  erecting  a  vast  edifice  whose  frame  should  be  entii'ely  of 
iron,  and  clothing  that  frame — preservmg  it — by  means  of  a 
casing  of  stone.  ^  By  means  of  iron  the  thrusts  of  vaulting  can 
be  almost  entirely  counteracted,  and  considerable  strength  can 
be  given  to  slight  supports.  But  it  cannot  too  often  be  repeated  : 
iron  should  be  left  independent ;  it  cannot  be  allied  with  masonry 
In  large  buildings.  It  possesses  properties  special  to  itself  in 
point  of  resistance,  elasticity,  and  expansion,  and  which  are  con- 
trary to  the  veiy  nature  of  masonry.  Employed  as  a  support, 
cast-iron  is  rigid  and  incompressible,  while  masonry,  consisting 
of  layers,  always  sinks  a  little  through  the  drying  of  the  mortar 
which  fills  in  the  joints.  Hence  a  wall  built  behind  a  cast-iron 
column  wUl  sink  somewhat,  while  the  column  will  not  yield. 

1  This  idea  is  certainly  dominant  in  tlie  construction  of  the  new  Church  of  St.  Augustine 
in  Paris.  It  only  wanted  working  out  to  be  frankly  accepted  with  all  its  consequences. 
If  the  .architect  of  that  edifice  had  taken  advantage  of  the  methods  presented  by  some  of 
the  mediteval  buildings  which  exemplify  an  analogous  principle  of  structure,  he  would  have 
realised  effects  far  more  satisfactory,  because  they  would  have  been  more  in  accordance 
with  the  means  adopted.  He  would  also  have  somewhat  lessened  the  cost  of  the  building, — 
a  consideration  never  to  be  despised.  In  any  case,  however,  it  exhibits  a  step  in  advance 
— a  hesitating  step,  it  is  true,  but  one  which,  in  the  present  condition  of  our  art,  deserves 
to  be  noted  as  a  symptom  of  returning  independence. 


LECTURE  XIII.  129 

What  is  supported  by  the  column,  therefore,  must  not  at  the 
same  time  rest  on  the  wall,  for  there  will  result  a  difference  of 
level  between  the  two  supports,  and  consequently  a  disturbance 
of  whatever  is  supported.  Hence  we  conclude  that  the  rigid 
support  ought  to  be  placed  on  the  outside,  and  the  masoniy 
inside  ;  for  then  the  sinking  of  this  latter  would  only  result  in 
directing  the  pressure  towards  the  centre  of  the  building.  But 
if  we  put  cast-iron  columns  against  the  wall  of  a  building  inside, 
and  rest  iron  trusses,  e.g.  on  the  columns  and  wall,  we  run  great 
risk  of  causing  partial  and  general  dislocations  in  the  building. 
If,  therefore,  we  undertake  to  encase  an  ii'on  structure  with  a 
shell  of  masonry,  that  shell  must  be  regarded  only  as  an  envelope, 
having  no  function  other  than  supporting  itself,  without  lending 
any  support  to  the  iron,  or  receiving  any  from  it.  Whenever  an 
attempt  has  been  made  to  mingle  the  two  systems,  mischief  has 
resulted  in  the  shape  of  dislocations  and  unequal  settlements. 
In  this  particular,  a  close  examination  of  our  great  medifeval 
French  buildings  will  supply  us  with  a  useful  precedent,  for  ii^ 
these  edifices  the  frame  (that  is,  the  piers,  arches,  vaulting, 
buttresses,  and  flying-buttresses)  is  independent  of  the  enclosure. 
But,  through  the  blindest  of  prejudices,  we  prefer  committing 
blunders  to  making  use  of  weU-tested  princijales  ;  and  in  order 
not  to  retrograde,  as  our  architects  say,  they  deprive  them- 
selves of  the  knowledge  gained  by  a  whole  series  of  experimental 
investigations — knowledge  which  would  naturally  lead  them  to 
give  ii'on  structure  its  veritable  function.  The  determination 
not  to  benefit  by  these  precedents,  which  are  so  favomaljle  to 
the  development  of  iron  construction,  is  so  very  evident,  that  it 
would  be  amusing  if  anything  less  serious  or  costly  than  archi- 
tecture were  in  question. 

There  is  one  of  the  systems  of  what  is  called  Gothic  vaulting, 
which  seems  to  have  been  designed  in  anticipation  of  structure 
in  iron,  viz.,  that  which  was  adopted  in  England  towards  the 
end  of  the  fourteenth  century,  \nowr).  as,  fan-vaulting,  and  which 
presents  a  series  of  arch-ribs  of  the  same  curve,  radiating  from 
a  single  support,  or  axis.  This  fan-vaulting,  in  the  form  of 
cui-vihnear  concave  cones,  like  the  bell  of  a  trumpet,  consists  of 
similar  and  equal  ribs,  between  which  are  panels  or  soffits  that 
are  easy  to  fill  in.  I  have  elsewhere'  given  a  minute  description 
of  this  kind  of  vaulting  which  can  be  so  easily  adapted  to  struc- 
ture in  iron. 

As  machineiy  is  now  so  extensively  applied  in  the  manufac- 
ture of  large  roUed  iron,  what  shoidd  be  avoided  is  the  multi- 
plication of  patterns,  which  necessitates  freqiient  changes  in  the 
operations  of  the  workshop.     A  smith  will  make  fifty  pieces  to 

'  See  the  article  Voute  in  tlie  Dictionnaire  de  V Architecture. 
VOL.  n.  I 


130 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


the  same  pattern  more  cheaply  and  rapidly  than  if  each  piece 
requu'ed  a  special  pattern ;  and  when  it  comes  to  the  fixing 
there  is  less  chance  of  the  work  not  fitting,  or  of  mistakes  in  it. 

In  some  of  the  buildings  lately  erected,  in  which  an  attempt 
has  been  made  to  employ  iron  as  a  means  of  vaulting,  the  iron 
ribs  ai'e  left  apparent ;  they  are  centrings  turned  beneath  the 
masonry,  and  supportmg  it.  Hence  the  necessity  for  decoratmg 
these  I'ibs  and  makmg  them  of  two  concentric  curves,  the  spaces 
between  which  are  filled  with  scroll-work,  more  or  less  rich, 
strongly  connecting  the  curves  and  contributing  to  the  orna- 
mentation. But  however  well  designed  the  scroll-work  of  these 
ribs,  it  is  scarcely  seen  from  below,  as  it  is  in  the  plane  of  the 
two  curves,  and  masked  from  the  spectator  by  one  of  them.^ 
When  these  ornamented  ribs  are  viewed  obhquely,  they  neces- 
sarily present  an  exceedingly  meagre  appearance  beneath  the 


Fig.  3. — Iron  Vaulting  Ribs. 


solid  masonry  soffits  of  the  vaulting.  Moreover,  this  kind  of 
iron  framing  is  expensive,  because  it  demands  complicated  work. 
It  woidd  seem  more  rational  to  regard  the  ribs  as  a  framework 
between  which  nothing  more  is  requu-ed  than  the  placing  of 
panels.  So  treated  the  iron  sinews  would  be  above  the  vaulting, 
and  would  leave  nothing  apparent  but  their  inner  curve,  and  it 
would  no  longer  be  necessary  to  ornament  them. 

Let  figure  3  be  an  iron  truss.  Supposing  we  lay  on  this  truss 
vaults  or  panels  B,  it  is  evident  that  all  the  part  a,  h  of  the 
truss  will  be  visible  inside  the  building  and  should  be  decorated  ; 
but  if  we  lay  the  vaults  or  panels  at  c,  there  will  no  longer  be 
any  necessity  for  decorating  the  truss  A,  and  it  may  be  formed 
in  the  most  economical  manner.  Moreover,  there  will  not  be 
seen  beneath  the  solid  surfaces  of  the  vault  that  skeleton-work 

'  Thug  it  is  impossible  to  perceive  the  scrolls  that  fill  in  between  the  curve-ribs  of  the 
dome  of  St.  Augustine's  Church  in  Paris. 


LECTURE  XIII.  131 

of  angle-iron,  which  at  a  certain  height  appeal's  so  meagre  and 
weak.  In  this  case  trusses  of  thin  plate-iron  with  T-iron 
streno-thening  are  sufficient,  and  the  part  in  sight  may  be  easily 
and  cheaply,  though  very  appropriately,  decoi-ated. 

According  to  the  system  of  iron  structure  now  adopted,  when 
a  vast  space  has  to  be  roofed,  parallel  trusses  connected  by 
longitudinal  braces  or  purlins  are  employed.  These  parallel 
trusses  require  to  be  of  relatively  considerable  strength,  in  order 
to  support  themselves, — to  say  nothing  of  the  weight  they  have 
to  carry, — so  as  not  to  turn  about  or  yield  in  any  direction.  It 
would  seem  however  that  the  adoption  of  iron  naturally  leads 
to  the  network  system  for  the  cov^ering  of  areas.  Every  one 
knows  the  strength  of  iron  netting  in  a  spheroidal  form.  If  the 
weight  of  the  iron  of  such  netting  were  distributed  in  any  other 
manner,  the  strength  would  be  less.  It  is  not  easy  to  abandon 
old  usages,  so  that  having  adopted  u'on  in  place  of  timber  for 
roofing,  we  were  for  applying  it  in  the  same  way  as  timber,  i.e. 
in  the  form  of  bays  and  jsiincipals.  Yet  in  the  timber  roofing  or 
vaidting,  the  medieval  buUders  disjalay  a  marked  superiority 
over  those  of  the  seventeenth  century ;  they  distributed  the 
weights  over  a  ^"ider  extent  of  surface.  When  we  began  to 
employ  iron  for  roofing,  ovu"  architects  never  thought  of  examin- 
ing whether  certain  elements  were  not  to  be  found  in  the  build- 
ings of  the  Middle  Ages,  which  might  be  of  service  to  them ; 
that  would  have  been  "  retrogi'ading,"  and  to  avoid  "  retrograd- 
ing" they  thought  the  best  plan  was  to  adhere  to  the  methods  in 
vogue  among  the  Romans  of  the  Emphe,  or,  better  still,  the 
pseudo-Roman  style  of  the  seventeenth  centuiy,— an  age  when 
people  buUt  extremely  ill.  It  was  the  seventeenth  century  that 
invented  the  heavy  form  of  principal  which  bears  the  weight  of 
the  piu'lins,  the  rafters,  and  all  the  roofing.  We  did  with  iron 
therefore  what  we  have  been  accustomed  to  do  Avith  wood ;  that 
is,  for  roofing  or  vaulting  we  set  up  a  series  of  parallel  principals 
or  trusses,  to  which  an  mordinate  weight  had  to  be  given  to 
maintain  them  in  their  place ;  yet  after  all  these  trusses  have 
sometimes  given  way,  falling  one  over  the  other  Uke  a  row  of 
cards. 

The  network  system  has  been  attempted  in  cast-iron  by  the 
English ;  but  as  cast-iron  has  no  elasticity,  these  endeavours 
have  not  been  successful.  With  wi-ought-  or  plate-iron  on  the 
other  hand,  the  system  would  answer  admirably.  In  order  to 
stiffen  the  plate-iron  which  we  now  employ  for  trusses  or  girders, 
and  to  maintain  it  in  the  vertical  position,  it  has  to  be  strength- 
ened with  hea\y  angle-iron  riveted  to  it,  and  to  be  powerfully 
braced.  The  weight  of  iron  structure  might  be  veiy  considerably 
lessened   by   adopting   a   network   system   instead    of  that   of 


132  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

parallel  trusses.  As  I  said  before,  the  so-called  fan-vaulting  in 
vogue  in  England  during  part  of  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth 
centuries  gives  us  the  elements  of  this  system.  I  will  endeavour 
to  show  this. 

We  are  required  to  vault  over  a  large  hall  70  feet  wide  in 
the  clear  ;  and  this  hall  must  be  closed  in  with  walls  of  masonry. 
It  is  understood  that  we  shall  employ  iron  for  the  entire  frame 
of  the  edifice,  and  masonry  only  as  a  casing. 

In  the  preceding  Lecture  I  explained  how  vaulting  of 
masonry  could  be  carried  on  iron  supports  or  trusses.  Here  the 
case  is  different ;  we  have  to  construct  the  vaulting  itself  of  iron, 
or  by  means  of  a  framework  of  iron  resting  on  supports,  likewise 
of  iron,  and  the  inteiior  iron  structure  must  be  completely  inde- 
pendent of  the  casing.  This  is  a  j^rinciple  which  cannot  be 
departed  from  without  incurring  grave  risks,  as  proved  by  some 
recent  attempts  where  it  has  been  disregarded. 

Plate  XXV.  gives  the  plan  of  a  quarter  of  one  of  the  bays  of 
the  vaulting.  The  entire  system  rests  on  the  detached  columns 
A  (see  the  general  plan  of  the  ceiling  of  the  hall  at  b),  and  the 
walls  merely  serve  as  an  outer  shell  sufficiently  strong  to  suppoi-t 
itself,  without  aid  from  the  cast-iron  supports  A,  but  also 
without  aflfoi'ding  any  aid  to  these  supports.  The  width  of 
the  haU  between  the  columns  is  70  feet.  The  truss  a  h  is±he 
pattern  of  all  the  other  radiating  trusses  a  c,  a  d,  a  e,  af.  The 
section  gives  the  vertical  elevation  of  the  trusses.  They  each 
abut  against  upright  pieces  h,  c,  d,  e,  f,  whose  shape  and  function 
we  shall  presently  describe.  The  lines  fg,  hg,  are  the  ridge 
lines  which  rise  slightly  from  f  to  g,  and  from  h  to  ;/.  The 
section  shows  at  c  the  diagonal  pieces  d  g,  which  also  abut 
agamst  a  central  upright  g.  These  trusses  a  b,  a  c,  a  d,  a  e,  a  J] 
are  equal  and  similar  to  each  other.  There  remain  the  portions 
of  trusses  k  i,  k  I,  etc.,  which  are  merely  portions  of  principal 
radiating  trusses.  These  half  trusses  are  held  at  the  feet,  at  /;-, 
and  at  k,  by  bracmg  struts,  h  m,  /*,  n,  k  n,  k  o,  etc.,  which  direct 
their  pressure  on  to  the  principal  radiating  trusses.  These  seg- 
ments are  divided  by  concentric  braces  into  2:)anels  whose  surface 
does  not  exceed  three  yards.  The  surface  a  h,  fa,  therefore, 
is  a  quarter  of  a  curvilinear  concave  cone,  and  the  surface  h,  g,f 
is  a  ceiling  slightly  elevated  at  g.  The  truss  a/' takes  the  place 
of  a  wall-rib,  but  it  is  5  feet  clear  of  the  wall,  and  only  connected 
with  it  by  braces  fixed  so  as  to  aflPord  them  lilierty  of  movement. 
To  maintain  the  cast-iron  columns  upright  and  resist  the  thrust 
exerted  by  the  trusses,  we  need  not  depend  on  the  wall ;  an 
open  work  cast-iron  buttress  serves  that  purpose  (see  the 
section).  Thus,  then,  the  entire  framework  can  be  erected 
before  or  after  the  building  of  the  enclosing  walls.     We  come 


COUnS     D'APvCHlTECTURE 


3 


'.    i^f/itf/   tt    Pu£    ,A-^ 


VOI'TKS    K\     vyvy 


LECTURE  XIII. 


133 


Fig.  4.— DoUiils  of  Iron  Network  VauUiiig. 


134  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

now  to  the  closing  in  of  tlie  vaulting,  the  filling  in  of  the  net- 
work. Instead  of  resting  the  soffits  on  the  trusses,  we  suppose 
them  to  be  placed  on  the  flanges  of  the  lower  angle-irons  of  these 
plate-trusses  ;  so  that  from  within  the  building  all  that  will  be 
seen  will  be  the  under  line  of  the  trusses,  the  thickness  of  their 
angle-u-on  flanges  and  the  soffits,  which  can  be  made  in  the 
workshop,  either  of  plaster  of  Paris,  sheet-iron  beaten  out,  or  of 
terra-cotta  with  grille-work,  and  present  a  decorative  appearance 
as  rich  as  may  be  desired.  These  soffits  are  merely  panels 
which  will  be  readily  fixed  and  will  have  been  prepared  before- 
hand.    Plate  XXVI.  shows  the  interior  perspective  of  this  hall. 

It  is  necessary  to  give  some  further  details  and  explanations 
of  the  methods  employed,  in  order  to  show  that  the  system  is 
practicable  with  the  aid  of  very  simple  means. 

A,  figure  4,  gives  to  a  scale  of  -h  the  section  of  the  column 
and  that  of  the  vertical  springer  to  which  the  trusses  are  fastened. 
Running  up  the  side  of  the  column  are  two  flanges  forming  a 
groove,  to  i-eceive  the  cast-iron  panels  that  constitute  the 
buttresses.  An  upright  piece  of  cast-iron  set  against  the  wall, 
and  whose  section  is  drawn  at  B,  also  grooved,  receives  the  other 
edge  of  these  perforated  panels.  This  upright  portion  B  may 
be  in  one  piece  or  in  two,  joined  at  the  level  of  the  lintel  over 
the  openings  of  the  lower  passage-way  (see  section  Plate  XXV.). 
It  is  held  at  its  upper  extremity  by  the  heel  of  the  abacus  of  the 
capital,  as  shown  at  a  by  the  perspective  dissection  of  these 
pieces  (fig.  4).  The  column  may  be  in  one  piece  or  in  two,  like- 
wise joined  at  the  level  of  the  lintel  above  mentioned.  The 
capital  is  cast  on  the  shaft,  as  are  also  the  flanges  of  the  latter. 
The  abacus  of  cast-iron  is  a  separate  piece,  and  is  provided  with 
the  heel  a,  which  grasps  the  vertical  grooved  piece,  and  a  little 
shoulder  d,  to  stop  the  foot  of  the  cast-iron  abutting  piece  G. 
A.  wrought-n'on  brace  F  ties  the  column  to  the  wall ;  but  without 
its  being  possible  that  a  settlement  of  the  latter  should  in  any 
way  afiect  the  coliunn  or  other  cast-iron  work,  as  the  brace  can 
yield.  The  abutting  piece  G  enters  into  the  groove  h  of  the 
vertical  cast-iron  fastening  springer  h.  This  springer,  whose 
horizontal  section  is  drawn  at  A,  also  carries  the  five  grooves 
which  receive  the  five  radiatmg  trusses  whose  lower  part  is 
drawn  at  L.  These  trusses  of  plate-iron,  strengthened,  as  I  have 
said,  with  angle-irons,  are  furnished  at  the  point  where  the 
curve  becomes  abrupt  with  a  T-iron  K,  shown  separately  at  I,  to 
carry  the  roofing.  The  trusses,  the  braces  that  connect  their 
extremities,  and  the  diagonal  j^ieces  which  constitute  the  main 
frame  of  the  ceiling,  all  unite  against  the  cylmdrical  cast-iron 
king-posts  P,  which  are  hollow  for  the  passage  of  the  cords  or 
pipes  for  pendant  lights,  and  are  held  in  jjlace  by  angle-plates  ; 


PL,   XXVI 


coiMis  i)'\i»iinirTi!i(h: 


vol     I  I    -.    I  \    I'l'.ly 


a 


LECTURE  XIII. 


135 


moreover  the  under  covering-plates  m,  which,  quitting  the  trusses 
and  braces  at  a  certain  distance  from  the  king-post,  bend  down 
in  the  form  of  curved  struts  and  are  bolted  at  o,  against  these 
king-posts  above  the  lower  termination.  At  N  is  given  to  a 
scale  of  h  the  section  of  the  king-jjosts  across  these  fastenings. 
The  pieces  G  are  furnished  with  lateral  grooves  to  receive  the 
iron  balustrades  of  the  upjjer  gallery  (see  the  section). 

The  roof  covering  may  be  placed  immediately  on  the  vaulting, 
as  the  soffits  rest  on  the  lower  flansfe  of  the  vaultincr-ribs,  and 
thus  the  au-  can  freely  circulate  between  the  soffits  and  the 


NSARD 

Fig.  5.— Roof  over  Iron  Network  VaiUtiDg. 


sheets  of  metal  which  compose  the  covering.  The  conical  shape 
of  the  roofing  is  in  fact  well  adapted  for  a  metallic  covering  ; 
at  each  bay  there  is  a  gable  or  pediment  of  masonry.  Only 
the  middle  parts  formmg  the  flat  ceilings  require  a  special  roof 
Fig.  5  represents  the  appearance  this  roofing  would  present. 

These  few  details  suffice  to  exemphfy  this  system  of  iron 
.structure  in  combination  with  the  structure  in  masonry,  but  in- 
dependent of  it,  a  system  which  would  seem  to  merit  the  earnest 
consideration  of  our  architects.  But  I  remark  once  more  that 
these  illustrations  are  not  intended  as  models  to  be  followed,  but 


136  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

merely  as  examples  of  principles,  and  of  the  uiethod  in  ^\•hich 
they  might  be  applied.  It  appears  more  sensible  to  revert  to 
those  j^recedents  which  best  adapt  themselves  to  structure  in 
iron — as  we  have  done  in  this  case  d  pro'pos  of  English  fifteenth- 
century  vaulting — and  to  make  use  of  the  appliances  there  sug- 
gested, than  systematically  to  object  to  certain  architectural  forms 
because  they  belong  to  a  particular  period  or  style,  and  to  adopt 
others  which  manifestly  c()ntravene  the  employment  of  novel 
materials,  simply  because  they  are  reputed  classic.  We  may  be 
well  assured  that  classic,  or  so-called  classic  doctrines,  are  utterly 
alien  to  the  architecture  which  the  pubhc  is  justified  in  requirmg 
from  us. 

The  network  of  iron  which  constitutes  the  fan  vaulting 
illustrated  in  the  preceding  engravings  presents,  like  the  English 
vaulting  from  which  its  principle  is  derived,  a  special  advantage, 
namely,  that  the  iron-work  becomes  slighter  in  proportion  as  the 
vaulting  recedes  from  its  supports.  Consequently  this  framework 
has  its  greatest  strength  of  resistance  where  it  has  to  bear  the 
greatest  weight.  Not  long  ago,  for  instance,  there  might  have 
l)een  seen  in  course  of  construction  some  flat  vaulting  circular 
in  plan,  consisting  of  radiating  irons  of  equal  section,  all  con- 
verging to  a  central  hoop  ;  so  that  this  central  part,  which  is 
furthest  removed  from  the  supports,  becomes  relatively  tlie 
most  weighted.  When  such  vaulting  is  intended  to  carry, 
besides  its  own  weight,  a  considerable  addition,  such  as  that  of 
a  number  of  persons,  a  superficial  yard  of  the  weakest  part,  viz., 
that  furthest  removed  from  the  supports,  wdl  have  to  bear  ten 
times  more  strain  than  the  same  extent  of  surface  m  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  those  supports.  Why  not  in  such  a  case  adopt  the 
network  system  so  well  adapted  for  structure  in  iron "? 

A  diagram  will  explam  this.  Here  is  a  chcular  hall  which 
has  to  be  covered  by  a  very  flat  vault  to  economise  height, — a 
vault  intended  to  support  a  considerable  weight — a  comj^act 
audience.  If,  fig.  G,  from  the  circumference  to  the  centre  of  the 
hall,  whose  diameter  is  80  feet,  we  have  a  series  of  girders  of 
similar  section  all  converging  to  a  small  central  curcle  (see  a),  it 
is  evident  that  although  we  may  reduce  the  weight  of  these 
girders  near  their  extremity,  there  will  nevertheless  be  a  weight 
of  metal  around  the  central  cu'cle  out  of  proportion  to  tliat  which 
is  distributed  near  the  circumference.  To  sustain  this  weight 
in  addition  to  that  which  the  vaultmg  has  to  bear,  it  will  be 
necessary  to  add  enormously  to  the  strength  of  the  ghders  near 
the  circunrference — greatly  to  increase  their  weight,  and  conse- 
quently then-  cost ;  the  strength  of  the  walls  too  must  be  pro- 
portionately mcreased ;  but  if  we  proceed  as  shown  in  drawing 
B,  only  bringing  eight  of  the  principal  girders  to  meet  the  central 


LECTURE  A'lII. 


13< 


circle,  and  putting  between  these  eight  principal  girders  portions 
of  slighter  gu'ders  with  strut  braces,  we  shall  secure  quite  as 
much  strength  as  in  drawing  A,  and  much  less  weight  of 
metal — especially  at  the  centre — and  consequently  greater  bear- 
ing power. 

We  shall  thus  have  applied  to  structure  in  iron  the  network 
system  of  which  the  mediaeval  architects  made  such  j  udicious 
use  in  then-  stone  vaulting.  I  do  not  know  whether  we  shall 
be  "  classic,"  but  I  am  certain  that  we  shall  be  sensible,  and  that 
we  shall  not  have  employed  the  money  of  the  public  or  of  our 


Flo.  G.— Iron  Network  Vaulting. 


clients  uselessly.  I  am  even  disposed  to  think  that  the  reticu- 
lated frame  b  would  be  quite  as  suitable  for  decoration  as  the 
frame  A  ;  that  is,  if  we  determine  to  show  the  structure,  and 
not  encase  the  iron-work  in  a  mass  of  plaster  of  Paris,  which 
would  conceal  the  construction,  according  to  the  fashion  of  the 
day.  It  seems  useless  to  enlarge  fiu-ther  on  the  method  it  would 
seem  reasonable  to  adopt  when  iron  is  employed  in  large  build- 
ings, the  constructioir  being  left  visible.  To  give  more  examples 
would  oblige  us  to  exceed  the  limits  of  this  work,  whose  purpose 


138  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

is  not  the  teaching  of  construction.  Having  explained  the  prin- 
ciples, we  leave  it  to  those  to  whom  they  may  commend  them- 
selves to  study  theh  application.  Of  course,  if  we  would  adopt 
these  rational  methods  in  employing  iron  in  large  structures,  we 
must  rid  ourselves  of  certain  prepossessions,  and  be  guided  only 
by  reason ;  at  the  same  time  carefully  analysing  the  methods 
suggested  by  former  precedents  which  may  afford  us  valuable 
hints,  and  being  ready  to  lay  aside  architectural  forms  that  are 
reproduced  without  consideration,  and  which  are  by  no  means 
suited  to  the  novel  materials  which  our  manufactures  place 
at  our  disposal.  The  future  of  architecture  depends,  we 
are  convinced,  on  the  prompt  adoption  of  these  rational 
methods. 

We  have  been  told  more  than  once,  when  the  subject  has 
been  mentioned,  that  we  are  aiming  at  nothmg  less  than  de- 
stroying imagination  and  inspiration  in  the  architect ;  that  in 
assigning  to  reason  so  important  a  function  in  architectural  con- 
ceptions, we  are  putting  an  extinguisher  on  the  sacred  fire  ;  and 
that  the  acquisitions  m  point  of  knowledge,  habits  of  analysis, 
calculation,  and  method  which  we  urge  upon  students  would  be 
gained  at  the  expense  of  taste  and  the  instinctive  appreciation 
of  the  beautiful.  This  style  of  argument — if  I  may  be  excused 
for  saying  so — reminds  one  rather  too  vividly  of  that  of  the 
rustics  who  take  care  not  to  clean  their  chikken's  heads  because, 
as  they  say,  the  parasites  which  swarm  in  their  shaggy  polls  are 
good  for  their  health.  It  is  not  the  fii'st  time  that  people  have 
been  foiind  ready  to  Inveigh  against  all  those  who  incline  to 
have  recourse  to  reason,  science,  and  the  appliances  it  furnishes. 
When  gunpowder  was  first  used  in  war,  was  it  not  said  that 
there  was  an  end  of  bravery  ?  When  prmtmg  was  invented, 
was  it  not  affirmed  that  by  rendering  knowledge  popular,  true 
science  would  be  annihilated  ?  What  unfavourable  presages 
were  not  uttered  when  railway  locomotives  were  first  started  1 
The  human  mind  is  naturally  inert,  and  will  sometimes  give  itself 
more  trouble  to  combat  a  truth  whose  recognition  would  cost  it 
something  of  an  effort,  than  would  be  required  to  make  that 
effort.  I  cannot  help  smiling,  e.g.  when  I  see  the  infinite  jiains 
taken  by  most  of  our  craft  to  avoid  the  appearance  of  boiTowIng 
anything  in  their  constructions  from  the  well-digested  methods 
adopted  in  certain  cases  by  medioeval  builders.  They  approach 
these  methods,  and  they  would  gladly  take  advantage  of  them, 
and  thus  avoid  useless  complications  and  expense ;  but  prejudice 
— something  perhaps  of  fear,  lest  they  should  incur  the  censure 
of  the  Academie  des  Beaux  Arts — restrains  them,  and  then  we 
see  how  they  chstort  a  simple  idea — a  really  rational  process — 
and  evade  the  truth  with  the  hesitations  and  reticence  of  con- 


LECTURE  XIIT.  139 

scious  guilt.  It  may  be  well  asked  whether  these  infantile  pre- 
possessions which  remind  one  of  a  pedagogic  tutelage,  and  which 
at  any  rate  show  no  great  independence  of  character,  ai'e  not  more 
prejudicial  to  the  development  of  imagination  and  to  inspiration, 
than  appeals  to  reason,  calculation,  and  method  could  possibly 
be.  On  the  contrary,  those  who  have  manifested  the  most 
complete  independence  have  been  always  those  in  whom  reason, 
knowledge,  and  judgment  had  reached  a  fair  degree  of 
development.  And  since  imagination — or  insph-ation,  if  we 
choose  to  call  it  so, — is  essentially  independent  in  its  nature, 
independence  of  character  is  absolutely  necessary  to  its  mani- 
festation. 


LECTURE  XIV. 

ON  THE  TEACHING  OF  ARCHITECTURE. 

WE  are  evidently  close  upon  one  of  those  critical  eras  in  the 
history  of  civilisation,  when  each  in  his  several  sphere 
feels  that  an  effort  has  to  be  made,  i.e. — if  I  may  be  allowed  the 
expression — a  "belling  of  the  cat"  to  be  undertaken;  but  in 
which  each  is  waiting  for  his  neighbom-  to  take  the  initiative. 
We  can  well  understand  that  architects  who  have  their  way 
to  make, — who  are  forced,  in  order  to  live  (for  this  is  the  real 
state  of  the  case,  and  young  men  who  devote  themselves  to 
architecture  are  not  generally  millionnau-es),  to  seek  powerful 
patronage,  and  to  submit  to  exigencies  often  of  a  painful  kind, 
supposing  they  have  settled  convictions,  should  be  disinclined 
to  make  a  parade  of  these  convictions  if  they  ha^^pen  not  to  be  in 
accordance  with  prevalent  ideas.  We  can  also  understand  that 
after  a  certain  time  the  most  steadfast  minds  become  habituated 
to  the  oppression  to  which  they  at  first  submitted  with  reserva- 
tions ;  that  their  submission,  though  only  apparent,  may  procure 
them  certain  advantages,  and  that  at  last,  when  they  are  theii' 
own  masters,  they  find  it  more  convenient  and  profitable  to 
range  themselves  in  their  turn  on  the  side  of  the  oppressors. 

A  wilter  who  addresses  the  public — who  produces  a  book 
which  the  public  reads — a  painter  who  produces  a  pictuie,  or  a 
sculptor  who  models  a  statue,  has  really  no  need  of  any  one's 
patronage  to  bring  him  into  notice.  Their  talent,  if  they  have 
any,  will  sooner  or  later  give  them  popularity.  It  is  not  so  in 
the  case  of  the  architect ;  for  his  productions  something  more  is 
required  than  a  little  ink  and  paper,  a  piece  of  canvas  and  coloius, 
or  a  few  clods  of  earth.  This  needs  no  demonstration,  and 
that  combination  of  favouring  circumstances  which  can  alone 
enable  an  architect  to  demonstrate  his  ability,  if  he  has  any,  is 
rarely  presented.  And  if  this  combination  of  circumstances 
depends  on  the  will  of  a  corporate  body,  such  as  that  of  the 
Academic  des  Beaux  Arts,  of  which  we  shall  have  to  speak,  it 


LECTURE  XIV.  141 

will  evidently  never  be  pi'esented  to  any  one  who  has  not 
the  advantage  of  sharing  the  opinions  and  ideas  of  that  body. 
This  is  also  clear.  But,  it  may  be  objected,  how  can  a  body 
composed  of  artists  possess  in  this  year  of  grace  1868  the  power 
we  impute  to  it?  There  must  be  some  exaggeration  in  our 
estimate.  Is  it  an  administrative  body  ?  No.  Does  it  control 
a  teaching  of  the  art  ?  No.  Has  it  the  revenues  of  the  State 
or  of  our  great  cities  at  its  disposal  ?  No.  On  what  then  do 
you  ground  your  estimate  of  its  potency  ? 

Simply  on  the  fact  that  it  is  a  body  enjoying  the  protection 
of  the  State.  The  State,  inasmuch  as  it  is  the  acknowledo-ed 
protector  of  an  intellectual  corporation,  becomes,  in  assuming 
that  position,  the  arm ,  the  executive,  of  that  corporation.  Some 
mtelligent  persons,  whose  clear-sightedness  no  one  can  deny,  are 
demanding  the  severance  of  the  Church  from  the  State,  and  they 
can  bring  powerful  arguments  m  favour  of  that  demand ;  and 
reasons  quite  as  powerful,  at  least,  can  be  alleged  in  favour  of  a 
separation  of  the  Academies  from  the  State.  Of  these  reasons 
1  wiU  discuss  one  only,  viz.  that  every  body  that  recognises  a 
fixed  system  of  doctrines,  which  is  otherwise  irresponsible,  and 
is  connected  with  the  State,  will  infallibly  make  use  of  that 
impersonal  force  called  the  State  to  secure  the  triumph  of  that 
system. 

It  was  with  perfect  logical  consistency  that  Louis  the  Four- 
teenth founded  the  Academy  of  the  Fine  Arts,  because  the 
State  under  Louis  the  Fourteenth  professed,  or  made  a  show  of 
professmg,  dogmas  in  all  branches  of  investigation.  There 
existed  then  a  State  Religion ;  it  was  natural  that  there 
should  be  a  State  Art,  a  State  Philosophy,  and  a  State  system 
of  instruction.  The  bonds  uniting  the  throne  and  the  altar 
being  closely  knit,  it  was  logically  consistent  that  no  discord  or 
contest  should  be  possible  between  what  belongs  to  the  domain 
of  intellect  or  conscience  and  the  Executive.  And  just  as  in 
that  age  the  mandate  went  forth  to  all,  "  Be  Catholics,  or  leave 
the  kingdom,"  with  even  greater  reason  the  command  might  be 
issued,  "  Think  as  we  wish  you  to  think,  or  a  lettre  de  cachet 
will  prove  to  you  that  independence  is  no  longer  in  fashion.' 
The  Government  of  Louis  the  Fourteenth  therefore  was  quite 
justified,  from  its  point  of  view,  in  establishing  the  Academie  des 
Beaux  Arts,  for  it  recognised  an  ofticial  architecture, — the  proof 
of  which  is  that  the  plans  of  all  the  public  edifices  erected 
throughout  the  kingdom  were  subjected  to  the  examination  of 
the  surintendant  Lebrun.  I  may  even  add,  that  the  Academie 
des  Beaux  Arts  was  .the  necessary  complement  of  this  organisa- 
tion ;  a  body  must  be  created  which  could  define  the  principles 
sanctioned  by  the  State,  preserve  them,  and  luiite  around  them 


142  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

those  who  were  capable  of  following  and  developing  them.  The 
Academy  of  the  Fine  Arts  must  consequently  have  its  seminary, 
which  was  the  ^cole  de  Rome.  I  repeat  it  :  there  is  nothing  to 
find  fault  with  in  this  perfectly  logical  concatenation,  the  first 
datum  being  granted, — that  is,  the  interference  of  the  State  in 
the  domain  of  intellect. 

The  organisation  thus  created  by  Louis  the  Fourteenth's 
Government  undeniably  presented  an  aspect  of  grandeur,  and 
we  can  easily  understand  how  it  must  have  dazzled,  not  only 
contemporaries,  but  many  intelligent  men  of  later  times.  The 
attainment  of  this  unity  of  thought  and  action,  the  having  cem- 
ented together  so  firmly  the  moral  and  material  elements  of  an 
entire  people  without  the  assumption  on  the  part  of  the  monarch 
of  bemg  the  Pontifex  maximus  of  his  empire,  as  well  as  its 
temporal  sovereign  ;  the  having  developed  under  the  shelter  of 
corporations  which  were  independent,  since  they  selected  their 
own  members — arts,  letters,  and  science,  while  svibjecting  these 
bodies  to  the  protection  of  the  State, — is  a  result  which  cannot 
but  excite  ovir  admiration.  The  Church  too  was  Gallican,  that 
is  to  say,  national,  and  the  Academies  preserved  a  unity  in  their 
proceedings  which  perfectly  harmonised  with  the  general  tenor, 
the  tendencies  and  usages  of  the  Government. 

But  in  this  world  of  ours,  logical  inconsistencies  cannot  he 
hazarded  with  impunity.  That  magnificent  ensemble  could  only 
retain  its  unity  on  the  condition  that  even  its  slightest  feature 
should  not  be  modified.  A  single  cog  chsplaced,  and  the  whole 
of  this  magnificent  macliinery  would  give  way.  It  is  not  my 
business  here  to  write  the  history  of  the  close  of  the  last 
century.  The  Revolution  did  more  than  remove  one  of  those 
cogs  ;  it  broke  up  the  whole  machine.  And  though  an  attempt 
has  been  made  since  to  gather  up  and  reunite  the  pieces,  these 
fragments  only  embarrass  us.  Instead  of  forming  the  harmoni- 
ous whole  which  they  presented — apparently  at  least — in  the 
eighteenth  century,  such  gearing  of  the  old  machine  as  has  been 
preserved  grates  harshly  and  turns  the  wrong  way  ;  presenting 
to  all,  but  especially  to  those  who  have  wished  to  make  it  serve 
its  purpose  again,  an  incessant  cause  of  difficulties  and  even  of 
dangers. 

As  the  State  is  neither  priest  nor  artist,  it  is  soon  oljliged,  if 
it  imdertakes  to  protect  orthodoxy  or  art,  to  commit  the  power 
at  its  command  to  one  or  other  of  them. 

The  State  however  ultimately  discovers  that  its  protection  is 
abused ;  then  it  undertakes  to  interfere  m  questions  of  dogma  or 
art,  with  a  view  to  define  its  action  and  guard  its  responsibility ; 
but  it  does  too  much  or  too  little ;  it  is  ignorant  in  such  matters, 
and  however  careful  it  may  be  not  to  seem  to  lay  a  hand  on  the 


LECTURE  XIV.  143 

sacred  ark,  it  is  denounced  as  tyi'annical.  Thus  it  is  always 
between  the  horns  of  a  dilemma  :  it  must  either  be  regarded  as 
an  oppressor,  or  it  must  accejat  the  part  of  an  executor  of  decrees 
of  whose  rectitude  it  has  no  authority  to  judge.  As  regards  the 
subject  in  question,  have  we  not  seen  this  to  be  exactly  the  case 
in  reference  to  the  reforms  attempted  by  the  State  in  the 
teachmg  of  the  Fine  Arts  ? 

The  State  thought  it  perceived  that  the  Academie  des  Beaux 
Arts, — which  hud  no  legal  jjower  to  control  the  teaching  of  art, 
but  to  which  in  point  of  fact  that  teaching  was  subject, — was 
endangering  the  studies  in  question  ;  it  undertook,  as  the  respon- 
sible protector  of  that  study,  to  reform  this  system  of  teachmg, 
— to  modify  it  (though,  be  it  observed,  very  slightly)  in  some  of 
its  details.  We  can  remember  the  chorus  of  vehement  expostula- 
tions on  the  part  of  members  of  the  "  Institut."  The  Ptepublic  of 
the  Arts  was  declared  in  danger,  and  manifestos,  protests,  and 
memorials  fell  thick  as  hail  on  the  Administration,  which  sustained 
the  first  fire,  but  was  not  very  long  in  acknowledging  itself 
beaten  in  this  unequal  contest,  and  aimed  at  nothing  more  than 
an  honourable  retreat  under  the  appearance  of  conciliation  and 
respect  for  mterests  which  it  confessed  it  had  perhaps  not  didy 
appreciated.  This  however,  we  may  observe,  does  not  prevent 
the  Academie  des  Beaux  Arts  from  maintaiiung  a  sidky  and 
mistrustfid  attitude  towards  that  civil  authority  which  had  thus 
encroached  on  the  domain  over  which  it  clauned  jmischction.  At 
present  the  two  powers,  one  of  which  is  the  protector,  and  the 
other  the  legally  protected,  are  ofiicially  reconciled ;  but  this 
reconciliation  has  been  secured  only  at  the  cost  of  a  more  and 
more  manifest  compliance  of  the  protector  with  the  wishes  of  the 
protege,  which  latter  is  becoming  so  decidedly  the  master  that  it 
abuses  its  position — as  corporations  of  tliis  order  always  do — 
so  egregiously  as  to  provoke  a  reaction.  If  that  reaction  takes 
the  shape  of  measures  of  reform  in  their  admmistration  things 
wUl  always  return  to  their  original  condition.  There  is  only  one 
method  of  reforming  the  bodies  placed  under  the  protection  of 
the  civil  authority,  namely  withdrawing  this  protection  from 
them, — that  is,  not  attemptmg  to  convert  them  to  the  ideas  of 
the  age  by  regulations,  but  leaving  them  alone.  If  the  Academie 
des  Beaux  Arts  ceased  to  be,  as  under  Louis  the  Fourteenth, 
placed  beneath  the  protection  of  the  State,  if  it  were  left  to 
shift  for  itself,  perhaps  it  would  render  some  ser\'ices  ;  but  at  any 
rate  we  may  be  certain  that  it  would  not  present  embarrass- 
ments either  to  governments  or  to  the  govei'ned,  and  that  the 
arts  would  he  the  better  for  the  change,  especially  architecture. 

These  tniths  appear  to  many  people  so  simple,  that  they 
are  inclined  to  ask  why  they  are  not  carried  out  in  practice. 


Hi  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

Why  ?  Because  in  the  whole  affair  that  which  is  least  cared 
for  is  art  itself;  personal  considerations  are  in  the  ascendant,  and 
in  art,  as  in  eveiything  else,  when  personal  considerations  take 
precedence  of  principles,  no  worthy  or  d\irable  result  can  be 
realised. 

Besides,  the  Academie  des  Beaux  A)is  finds  itself  now  in  a 
novel  position  ;  it  no  longer  recognises  a  definite  doctrine  in  art ; 
what  it  seeks  to  establish  is  not  a  principle — an  orthodox  belief 
— but  merely  the  predominance  of  an  interest.  All  its  efforts 
tend,  not  to  the  propagation  of  doctrines,  whether  true  or  false, 
but  to  the  maintenance  of  its  position  and  the  exclusion  from  it 
of  those  who  are  not  Academicians,  or  do  not  aspire  to  be  so,  or 
who  are  unwilling  to  acknowledge  its  supremacy.  In  this  respect 
the  Academie  des  Beaux  Arts  is  departing  from  the  traditions 
of  those  corporations  which  purpose  to  perpetuate  their  existence, 
and  has  been  attacked  by  the  worm  that  settles  on  bodies  whose 
decay  is  imminent. 

When  the  guUds  and  fraternities — whose  origin,  be  it 
observed,  was  quite  democratic — were  more  taken  up  with 
maintaining  their  antiquated  privileges  than  raising  their  several 
industries  to  the  level  of  the  knowledge  of  the  times,  when 
they  became  exclusive,  and  desired  to  drive  away  competitors 
instead  of  excelling  them,  they  were  marked  for  death.  When 
it  became  clear  that  the  Inqnisitio  jyro  fide  made  a  point  of 
accusing  rich  people  of  heresy  to  confiscate  their  wealth,  the 
days  of  its  power  were  numbei'ed. 

The  histoiy  of  the  architectural  section  of  the  Academie  des 
Beaux  Arts,  since  the  manifesto  issued  by  it  in  1846,  will  be 
instructive  on  more  accounts  than  one,  when  the  time  comes  for 
its  being  written,  and  when  we  shall  be  able  to  reckon  what  it 
costs,  and  to  show  how,  by  degrees,  it  has  attained  to  its  irre- 
sponsible supremacy,  while  leaving  to  Government  boards  the  task 
of  hiding  or  defendiug  the  blunders  or  costly  fixncies  of  most  of 
its  alunmi.  Meanwhile,  it  is,  we  think,  desirable  to  raise  a 
corner  of  the  veil  interposed  between  the  public  and  an  organi- 
sation which  may  be  j^aralleled  with  the  most  firmly  established 
corporations  of  a  similar  kind  in  the  Middle  Ages. 

The  architectural  section  of  the  Academie  des  Beaux  Arts 
consists  of  eight  members — not  too  large  a  number  ;  that  of 
Painting  comprises  fourteen  ;  that  of  Sculpture  eight :  in  all, 
thirty  members.  And  as  architects  frequently  have  the  opjior- 
tunity  of  bestowing  commissions  for  woi'ks  of  sculpture  and 
painting,  a  community  of  interests  very  naturally  arises  among 
these  thirty  members.  The  esprit  de  corps  wliich  prevails  among 
the  alumni  of  the  l^cole  de  Rome  is  roused  on  the  occasion  of  a 
nomination  to  the  vacant  chairs  of  the  Institute,  and  so  we  cannot 


LECTURE  XIV.  145 

be  surprised  that  of  these  thirty  members,  eight  architects,  nine 
painters,  and  seven  scidptors,  formerly  belonged  to  that  school 
— a  respectable  majority  certainly. 

There  woiild  certainly  be  nothing  to  find  fault  with  in  this 
if  the  Academie  des  Beaux  Arts  was  an  independent  association, 
not  enjoying  State  protection.  It  is  quite  natm-al  that  the 
members  of  that  academy  should  prefer  to  recrait  their  body 
from  among  their  familiar  circle  instead  of  giving  themselves 
the  trouble  to  seek  out  talent  from  various  quarters  ;  especially 
as  they  are  justified  in  regarding  their  comrades  as  veiy  capable 
men,  since  they  obtained  the  Roman  Exhibition  by  a  competitive 
examination.  But  it  must  never  be  forgotten  that  the  State  is 
their  protector,  and  thus  makes  itself  the  passive  instrument 
of  a  body  which  recruits  itself  from  an  element  that  is  vmchanged 
and  im changeable.  In  fact  you  enter  the  "  Institut "  because  you 
were  at  Rome,  and  you  obtain  admission  there,  and  (which  is 
most  impoi'tant),  you  cannot  leave  it  with  any  chance  of  obtain- 
ing commissions,  except  on  the  condition  that  yovi  have  followed 
the  course  marked  out  by  the  Institute. 

Attempts  have  frequently  been  made  to  break  through  this 
.  .  .  profitable  cu'cle,  but  the  protected  and  privileged,  and  con- 
sequently uTOsponsible  body  has  easily  frustrated  the  attempts 
at  emancipation.  The  few  younger  men  who  may  have  wished 
to  emancipate  themselves,  relying  on  the  liberal  tendencies  of  an 
administrative  body,  have  learned  to  their  cost  what  such 
emancipation  must  involve.  If  they  will  not  walk  along  the 
beaten  path  prescribed  by  the  coterie,  they  find  every  door 
closed  against  them  ;  if  they  do  not  encounter  open  hostility, 
they  have  to  cope  with  a  conspiracy  of  silence.  Do  they  betake 
themselves  to  that  administrative  body,  whose  extrmsic  liberality 
of  view  they  thought  they  had  discovered,  and  which  has  had  the 
tribute  of  their  best  wishes  and  humble  eflbrts  ?  They  are  received 
with  promises  and  attentions  of  every  kind  ;  they  are  even  com- 
mended for  theii'  independent  attitude  towards  the  corporation 
in  question  ;  but  the  commissions  they  soHcit,  often  with  a  good 
title  to  receive  them,  Avill  be  given  to  those  who,  more  discreetly, 
shall  have  valiantly  compromised  themselves  by  defending 
against  those  liberal  efforts  of  the  administration  the  privileges 
of  the  corporation.  Such  are  the  acts  which  that  administration, 
in  its  controversy  with  the  "  Institut,"  reckons  to  the  score  of 
measures  stamped  with  the  mark  of  impartiaUty.  Such  being 
the  state  of  things,  and  more  emphatically  now  than  ever,  we 
can  sufficiently  understand  the  extensive  Influence  which  an 
irresponsible  corporate  body  may  acquire  over  an  executive. 

And,  in  fact,  what  can  an  administration  which  is  not  com- 
petent to  judge  of  such  matters  bring  to  bear  against  the  opinion 

VOL.  II.  K 


146  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

of  a  body  considered  by  the  State  itself — inasmuch  as  the  latter 
sustains  it — supremely  competent  ?  How  can  we  expect  that  an 
administration  not  laying  claim  to  discernment  in  art  should 
take  the  responsibility  of  intrusting  the  construction  of  a  public 
building,  e.g.,  to  one  who  is  excluded  from  a  body  supposed  to 
recruit  its  members  from  the  very  elite  of  artists  ?  An  easier 
and  less  compromisuig  course  for  it  will  be  to  shelter  itself 
behind  the  opinion  of  that  body  which  is  nevertheless  not  a 
responsible  one,  and  is  by  no  means  bound  to  render  to  the 
public  an  account  of  the  motives  that  guide  its  action,  and 
which  it  takes  good  care  not  to  furnish.  We  can  understand 
that,  in  view  of  these  scruples  and  that  timidity  which  is  very 
excusable  in  an  administrative  body  having  no  acquaintance 
with  the  speciahties  of  art,  the  coterie  in  question  will  carry  all 
before  it.  Thus  the  government  boards  soon  find  themselves 
completely  at  the  mei'cy  of  the  chiefs  of  that  corporation,  and 
surrounded  by  its  adherents,  who  are  candidates  for  every  post. 
These  latter  become  so  much  the  more  numerous  and  so  much 
the  more  submissive  to  the  influence  of  the  body  in  question, 
as  they  perceive  its  influence  increasing  and  its  authority 
strengthened  in  all  government  undertakings.  And  as  the 
authorities  constantly  hear  the  same  opinion  expressed  with 
regard  to  all  that  is  done — since  they  have  allowed  those  who 
do  not  share  that  opmion  to  be  removed  from  their  councils^ 
they  sincerely  believe  that  the  views  they  hear  expressed  are 
correct,  until  some  accidental  circumstance  rudely  awakens  them 
to  the  truth.  Then  the  responsibility  which  the  administration 
thought  it  might  devolve  on  an  irresponsible  body  falls  back 
upon  it  with  all  its  weight,  and  the  State-protected  corporation 
retires  beneath  the  copula  of  the  "Institut."  I  would  have  it 
clearly  understood  that  I  am  preferring  an  indictment  not  against 
persons,  but  against  an  institution  which,  connected  with  the 
State,  is  to  it  a  cause  of  embarrassment,  and  to  art  a  source  of 
weakness  ;  wliile  it  places  artists  in  a  position  as  undignified  as 
it  is  inconsistent  with  the  tendencies  of  the  age  and  the  reqvdi-e- 
ments  of  our  social  condition.  I  have  no  intention  to  discuss 
matters  that  concern  painters  and  sculptors ;  it  is  for  them  to 
decide  whether  the  "  Institut "  promotes  art  m  their  department, 
or  is  advantageous  to  their  personal  interests.  I  have  here  only 
to  do  with  the  position  of  architects  who,  as  I  have  just  shown, 
find  themselves  in  a  pecidiar  situation  as  regards  the  pubhc  and 
the  public  service.  And  without  exaggeration  it  may  be  main- 
tained that  it  is  an  undignified  alternative  for  men  who  are 
intrusted  with  interests  often  of  great  importance,  to  have  either 
to  repudiate  their  opinions  and  ideas, — if  these  opinions  or  ideas 
are  not  favoured  by  the  corporation  protected  by  the  State, — 


LECTURE  XIV.  147 

or  to  be  condemned  to  a  kind  of  ostracism,  if  they  hold  to  such 
ideas  and  opinions.  Temptation  should  not  be  made  too  strong ; 
firmness  and  constancy  are  rare  vu'tues ;  moreover,  with  most 
men  the  consideration  how  they  slmll  procure  a  living  is  a  veiy 
influential  one.  And  corporate  bodies  which  have  no  longer  the 
power  to  incarcerate  or  burn  those  who  do  not  share  then* 
opinions  ai'e  still  able  to  impose  on  them  the  protracted  tortvire 
of  isolation,  silence,  and  embaiTassment,  obstacles  of  all  kinds, 
polite  manifestations  of  ill-will,  disappointments,  and  so  forth. 
In  our  opinion  there  is  still  too  much  of  such  displays  of  power. 
If  this  could  possibly  be  a  benefit  to  art ;  if  art  gained  thereby 
in  dignity  and  strength  what  artists  lose  in  independence  and 
security,  it  woidd  not  be  right  to  complain.  We  should  heartily 
exclaim  :  "  Let  artists  perish  rather  than  art !"  But  the  fact  is 
that  there  can  be  no  art  without  artists  ;  in  fact,  none  without 
ai-tLsts  of  independence  and  character.  By  degrading  its  pro- 
fessors we  necessarily  degrade  art  itself. 

For  this  deplorable  state  of  things  there  is  but  one  remedy, 
viz.,  to  regard  the  AcadCmie  des  Beaux  Arts  (its  architectural 
section  at  least)  as  an  independent  society,  and  to  sever  the  bonds 
that  unite  it  with  the  State.  And  sooner  or  later  it  will  come 
to  this.  The  period  will  arrive, — and  the  time  for  such  a  change 
of  aspect  comes  at  certain  crises  in  the  history  of  nations, — 
when  questions  of  principle  will  take  precedence  of  personal 
considerations ;  when  we  become  aware  that  nothing  of  the  old 
machinery  of  the  seventeenth  century  can  be  retained. 

Not  till  then  wUl  the  teaching  of  architecture  be  free,  and 
begin  to  develop  itself  But  how  '^  This  is  a  question  we  shall 
examine  presently. 

It  is  quite  natural  that  the  architectural  section  of  the 
Academie  des  Beaux  Arts  should  assume  that  good  architecture 
in  France  dates  from  1671, — the  era  of  its  foundation;  but 
this  opinion  is  not  shared  by  the  pubHc  in  genei-al,  and  many 
persons  of  intelligence  believe  that  before  that  epoch  builtUngs 
of  some  merit  were  erected  in  France.  But  supposing  this 
opinion  to  be  erroneous,  it  is  a  sincere  one,  and  on  that  accoimt 
alone  it  has  a  title  to  respect  in  a  country  which  for  the  last 
seventy-five  years  has  placed  freedom  of  conscience  and  opinion 
at  the  head  of  the  numerous  constitutions  it  has  adopted. 

But  at  its  commencement,  be  it  obsei-^'ed,  this  Academy  of 
Architecture  had  not  the  character  it  assumed  in  later  days, 
especially  after  the  Restoration.  I  will  cite  here  the  words  of  a 
writer  whom  assiuredly  no  one  will  accuse  of  systematic  hostility 
towards  the  Academies.^     "Before  the  Revolution,  which  put 

^See  the  "R^ponse  4  la  lettre  de  M.  Ingres,"  by  M.  Ch.  Giraud,  of  the  Institute. 
Paris,  1864,  p.  2. 


Ii8  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

an  end  to  the  ancient  monarchy,  the  chief  depositaries  of  the 
traditions  of  art  in  France  were  an  Academy  of  painting  and 
sculpture  founded,  not  by  Lebrun,  as  has  been  said,  but  by 
Mazarin,  in  1648,  and  an  Academy  of  Architectm'e  foimded  by 
Colbert  in  1671.  At  their  foundation,  these  two  institutions  had 
by  no  means  the  sesthetic  character  with  which  we  should  be 
iuclmed  to  credit  them  if  we  considered  their  names  only,  and 
interpreted  those  names  according  to  the  ideas  now  prevalent. 
The  guild  and  corporation  rdgime  formerly  gave  law  to  the 
j^rofession  of  all  the  arts  in  France.  None  coidd  practise  the  art 
of  painting  or  scidpture  unless  he  belonged  to  the  corporation 
of  mattres peintres  and  scidptiers,  and,  to  be  enrolled  among  its 
members,  six  years  must  be  passed  with  a  master,  three  as  a 
rapin,  and  three  as  an  apprentice ;  at  the  end  of  which  term  the 
candidate  had  to  produce  a  chef-d'ceuvre,  on  the  completion  of 
which  he  was  received.  No  one  outside  the  cu'cle  of  privileged 
persons  was  allowed  to  use  the  palette  or  the  chisel  freely  or 
publicly,  on  pain  of  forfeiture  of  his  work  wherever  the  syndicate 
of  the  masters  might  find  it.  Only  the  artists  directly  com- 
missioned by  the  king,  the  princes  or  very  powerful  nobles,  could 
escape  the  jealous  surveillance  of  the  corporation.  It  was  to 
liberate  artists  from  the  tyranny  of  the  guilds  that  Mazarin  and 
Colbert  founded  the  Academies  in  question.  In  fact  it  was  the 
privilege  of  their  members  to  be  exempted  from  the  necessity  of 
becoming  free  of  the  guilds,  and  to  be  able  to  practise  their  art 
without  restriction. 

But  in  conferrmg  this  -novel  privilege,  Mazarin  and  Colbert 
did  not  make  the  two  Academies  of  the  Arts  two  public  institu- 
tions ;  this  last  idea  also  is  foreign  to  the  intention  of  the  founders. 
They  established  two  new  private  corporations,  elevated  above 
the  others,  I  admit,  and  liberal  in  status,  whUe  the  others  were 
connected  with  trade,  but  presenting  the  same  character  funda- 
mentally ;  for  none  who  did  not  belong  to  the  Academies  or  to 
the  guilds  could  exercise  the  art  of  paintmg,  sculpture,  or  buUd- 
ing.  The  Academies  of  the  Arts,  therefore,  were  organised  on 
the  model  of  the  trade  corporations ;  this  was  at  that  tune  the 
customary  and  obligatory  type  of  every  association  of  this  kind. 
Thus  the  government  of  the  Academies  was  left  to  a  kind  of 
syndicate ;  the  first  twelve  who  were  inscribed  on  the  list  of 
Academicians  formed  the  supreme  council  of  the  Anciens.  The 
other  members,  whose  number  was  not  Hmited,  had  no  share  in 
the  direction ;  but  they  participated  in  the  honour  or  privilege 
of  the  free  exercise  of  their  art ;  the  charges  for  rent,  models, 
and  even  prizes,  ivere  defrayed  by  the  conti-ibutions  of  the  Acade- 
micians generally,  who  furnished  each  his  quota  towards  these 
expenses.     The  State  never  gave  any  aid  except  in  the  way  of 


LECTURE  XIV.  149 

trifling  and  occasional  subsidies.  At  a  later  date  the  king  gave 
them  a  local  habitation.  Besides  the  free  exercise  of  their 
several  professions,  teaching  constituted  another  privilege  of  the 
Academies ;  but  the  Council  of  the  Aiiciens  had  the  exclusive 
right  of  naming  professors,  of  regulating  the  discipline,  and 
determinina:  the  conditions  of  the  res^ime  of  the  school.  This 
constitution  lasted  till  1793,  when  the  last  vestiges  of  the  ancient 
trade  corporations  were  obliterated.  .  .  .  When  the  Revolution- 
aiy  stoiTii  had  passed  over,  Vien  succeeded  in  procuring  the  re- 
estabhshment  of  the  ancient  Academies,  luider  the  new  and  more 
apposite  title  of  l^cole  des  Beaux  Arts.  His  influence  availed 
even  to  restore  their  former  prerogatives  to  the  Anciens ;  but  it 
was  only  for  a  short  time,  for  a  decree  of  the  11th  of  January 
1806  assigned  the  nomination  of  the  professors  to  the  Emperor, 
and  allotted  them  a  salary  out  of  the  coffers  of  the  State.  ..." 

This  review  of  the  histoxy  of  the  Academie  des  Beaux  Arts, 
from  its  foundation  down  to  1806,  suggests  some  general  remarks 
desei-ving  of  consideration. 

The  corporate  bodies  of  the  Middle  Ages,  which  were  demo- 
cratic though  far  from  hberal,  could  not,  however,  continue  to 
exist  under  the  government  estabhshed  by  the  ministers  of  Louis 
the  Fourteenth.  What  course  then  did  those  muiisters  pursue  ? 
They  raised  side  by  side  with,  or  above  them,  a  privileged  cor- 
yjoration,  .though  leaving  to  that  corporation  the  quasi-repubhcan 
prerogatives  of  the  ancient  guilds. 

The  government  of  Louis  the  Fourteenth  grafted  a  privilege 
on  old  established  privileges.  And  whether  the  corporate  body 
were  called  Academy  or  guild,  the  effect  was  in  the  tii-st  instance 
essentially  the  same  or  nearly  so ;  but  we  can  understand  how 
much  more  easy  it  was  for  the  State  speedily  to  render  an 
Academy  founded  by  itself  a  docile  instrument — ^an  instrument 
all  its  own — -than  to  exert  an  influence  over  the  ancient  guilds. 
In  this  the  government  of  Louis  the  Fourteenth  was  consistent ; 
it  proceeded  in  matters  of  art  in  the  same  way  as  it  was  jiroceed- 
ing  in  regard  to  feudalism.  It  raised  a  new  order  of  privileges 
which  were  more  vahd,  and  at  the  same  time  more  submissive 
to  itself,  above  the  ancient  order  of  privileges  which  were  capable 
of  raising  obstructions  in  the  way  of  absolute  power. 

Nevertheless,  this  superior  corporation,  under  royal  protec- 
tion, preserved  the  republican  forms  of  the  ancient  guilds.  But, 
objectionable  as  were  the  abuses  attaching  to  those  ancient 
guilds,  they  were  amenable  to  no  external  authority,  they 
existed  in  the  city,  lived  its  life,  and  were  obhged  to  take 
account  of  prevailing  opinion,  and  were  influenced  by  its  changes. 
It  could  not  be  so  \Ai\x  a  corporate  body  under  the  control  of 
royalty;  sheltered  beliuid  the  special  privileges  it  enjoyed,  it 


150  LECTURES  OK  ARCHITECTURE. 

necessarily  soon  became  isolated,  and  formed  a  kind  of  aristocracy 
more  powerful  than  the  oligarchy  of  the  guQds  had  ever  been 
able  to  become.  In  fact,  "  these  Academies  were  at  the  same 
time  teaching,  professional  and  Academic  bodies,  in  the  modern 
sense  of  this  tenn  ;  as  in  fact  were  the  Academies  of  the  same 
kind  that  existed  m  Italy — whence  Mazarin  had  taken  the  idea 
and  plan  of  them — and  whose  influence  was  so  disastrous  to 
Italian  art  from  the  close  of  the  seventeenth  century  downwards. 
It  is  to  them  in  great  measure  that  the  declme  of  that  art  is 
owmg.  .  .  .  The  Academic  professional  body  had  everywhere 
originated  a  kind  of  style  which  has  become  notorious,  and 
which  is  not  always  that  of  grace  and  good  taste. 

The  supreme  Academic  honour  at  that  time  was  the  Professor- 
ship ;  and  so,  as  t\ie  Anciens  sincerely  believed  they  could  not 
do  better,  they  always  nominated  one  of  themselves.  Academi- 
cian and  Professor  were,  in  their  view,  convertible  terms,  for  one 
was  inseparable  from  the  other.   .   .   ."^ 

The  decree  of  the  11th  of  January  1806,  in  re-constituting 
the  AcacUmie  cles  Beaux  Arts,  purported  to  restrict  its  authority 
within  moderate  hmits ;  its  professors  were  selected  by  the 
emperor,  and  its  expenses  were  charged  to  the  State.  This 
arrangement  was  a  kind  of  concordat,  followed,  at  various  periods, 
especially  in  1863,  by  regulative  enactments.  But  we  know 
what  regulative  enactments  are  to  corporate  bodies  which  accept 
a  concordat  only  in  the  hope  of  evading  at  least  the  spirit  of  it, 
so  that  at  the  present  moment  that  body,  which  is  a  relic  of 
institutions  foreign  to  the  ideas  of  our  times,  has,  in  spite  of  all 
limitations,  the  control  of  teaching  in  the  Fine  Arts,  and  of  most 
of  the  Boards  which  regulate  the  State  expenditure  and  that  of 
our  large  cities,  for  Fine  Art  purposes ;  consequently  it  deter- 
mines the  destiny  of  artists,  and  more  particvilarly  of  arcliitects 
who  have  scarcely  any  scope  for  exhibitmg  then-  talents  apart 
from  the  works  controlled  by  those  Boards. 

We  might  weU  ask  why  the  Academic  des  Beaux  Arts,  which 
is  only  a  concentrated  representative  of  the  guilds  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  professes  such  an  utter  contempt  and  even  aversion  for 
all  that  belongs  to  that  period,  if  we  did  not  consider  that  cor- 
porate bodies  are  wont  to  repudiate  their  origin,  and  to  assume 
that  they  owe  their  dignity  to  none  but  themselves.  But  this 
is  no  excuse  for  the  ingi'atitude  thus  displayed.  In  undertaking 
to  make  the  J^cole  dcs  Beaux  A  rts  a  public  institution,  the  State 
almost  quarrelled  with  the  Academy  ;  it  did  not  reahse  the  object 
proposed,  and  cannot  attain  it  as  long  as  there  exists  a  connection 
between  it  and  the  Academy.  In  the  judgment  of  the  Academic 
body,  the  intervention  of  the  State  in  the  teaching  of  the  Fine 

'  "  Eeponse  a  la  lettre  de  M.  Ingres,"  by  Ch.  Giraud  of  the  Institute,  Paris,  1864. 


LECTURE  XIV.  151 

Arts  is  as  great  a  breach  of  privilege  as  its  interference  with  the 
instruction  given  at  the  Seminaire  could  be  from  an  episcopal 
standpoint. 

But,  it  may  be  objected,  with  some  show  of  i-eason,  since  it 
is  the  State  that  is  responsible  for  the  employment  of  the  public 
funds,  it  is  but  fair,  at  least  as  regards  architecture,  that  it  should 
requu'e  a  guarantee  of  the  quality  and  character  of  the  instruction 
given  to  the  architects  who  will  be  commissioned  to  expend  those 
fimds  in  the  construction  of  pubhc  buildings.  And  this  is  not 
merely  a  question  of  economy  but  of  security ;  to  say  nothing  of 
the  honour  which  redounds  to  it — the  State — if  such  edifices  are 
handsome,  and  the  disgrace  attaching  to  it  when  they  are  badly 
designed  and  luisightly. 

"No,"  repHes  the  coi-porate  body  in  question,  and  with  not 
less  reason,  "  I  have  been  instituted  by  you,  the  State,  to  main- 
tain art  at  the  highest  level  it  can  attain  in  our  times  ;  in  virtue 
of  the  position  thus  assigned  me,  and  enjoying  your  protection, 
I  recriut  myself  from  among  the  most  capable  of  all  the  artists 
of  the  day ;  I  am  assiu-ed  of  the  competence  of  tliis  selection, 
since  I,  a  corps  d'elitS,  am  the  chooser  of  those  who  fill  up  such 
vacancies  as  occur ;  it  would  therefore  be  to  belie  my  constitution, 
which  you  acknowledge  to  be  excellent,  since  you  are  its  creator 
and  protector,  if  you  were  to  deprive  me  of  the  means  of  forming 
those  competent  artists  from  among  whom  I  am  to  recruit  my- 
self,— if  I  could  not  fashion  them  in  my  own  likeness ;  or  if, 
having  so  fashioned  them,  you  should  not  implicitly  receive 
them  as  excellent. 

"  You,  the  State,  are  no  judge  in  such  matters ;  you  cannot 
know  how  an  architect  should  be  trained ;  and  the  best  thing 
you  can  do  is  to  mtrust  the  aflPaii-  entirely  to  nie  who  have  been 
instituted  by,  and  are  maintained  by  you — let  it  be  remembered 
— ^for  the  very  purpose  of  mauitaining  art  at  an  exalted  level, 
and  not  allowing  it  to  lose  its  way  amid  certain  studies  which  I 
declare  dangerous,  because  I  have  Uttle  famiharity  with  them,  or 
amid  novelties  which  I  do  not  think  proper  to  sanction." 

The  public  woidd  certainly  have  good  reasons  for  making  the 
above  representations ;  but  the  Academy  would  be  justified  in 
returning  such  a  reply  as  we  have  attributed  to  it. 

For  these  contradictory  positions,  the  truth  of  each  of  which 
may  be  asserted  according  to  the  point  of  view  from  which  we 
regai'd  them ;  for  these  conflicting  argvmients  which  will  go  on 
for  ever  without  in  any  degree  modifying  the  opinions  of  either 
party,  the  State  may  some  day  find  a  simple,  harmonising 
solution,  to  which  nothing  could  be  objected.  It  woidd  only 
have  to  express  itself  thus :  "  Your  constitution  dates  as  far  back 
as  1671, 1  freely  admit,  and  the  Academy  may  be  proud  of  this ; 


152  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

but  since   1671   some  events  of  the  gravest  importance  have 
happened  in  France.     Since  that  day  many  other  institutions 
have  been  created  or  changed ;  many  traditions  have  been  for- 
gotten or  annihilated  ;  privileges  sanctioned  by  former  govern- 
ments  have   been  abolished :    these  are   facts  which  existing 
authorities  are  forced  to  recognise.     I  do  not  object  to  your 
having  the  amplest  liberty,  for  I  do  not  wish  to  restrict  that  of 
any  individual  or  even  of  any  society,  fraternity,  or  corporation. 
But  you  must  be  aware  that  the  Revolution  of  the  last  century 
abolished  privileges  and   monopolies,  and  that  in  France  the 
principles  of  equality  have  come  to  pervade  our  moral  and  social 
existence ;  I  cannot  therefore  protect  or  support  you,  because 
my  special  and  exclusive  protection  is  a  wan-anty  that  binds  and 
compromises  me  ;  and,  which  is  more  important  still,  it  is  an 
infringement  of  the  principle  of  free  competition.     If  I  give  you 
exclusive  protection  and  support,  either  that  protection  must 
oblige  you  to  a  compliance  with  my  wishes, — and  you  object  to 
these  as  arbitrary, — or   I  must  give  you  absolute   liberty,  a 
liberty  which,  entrenched  behind  my  protection,  may  overbear 
that  of  others.     I  clearly  perceive  this  dilemma,  and  am  unwill- 
ing any  longer  to  be  caught  in  it.     Take  your  part  fauiy  with 
others,  preserve  your  institution  even,  if  you  think  proper,  but 
henceforth  I  shall   not  be   its  protector   or   responsible   chief. 
Determine  to  have  a  school  or  not  to  have  one  ;  make  the  theory 
or  the  practice  of  art  your  study,  give  medals  and  exhibitions,  if 
generous   donors  provide  you    with  the    means   of  so    doing ; 
give   lectures   or   publish   books   for   the  benefit    of  any   who 
are  willing  to  listen  to  or  read  them  ;  I  wUl  not  interfere  to  pre- 
vent you.     Provided  you  make  no  disturbance  in  the  streets,  nor 
obstruct  the  thoroughfares,  and  do  not  exhibit  or  publish  any- 
thing morally  reprehensible,  you  may  do  what  you  like.     But  if 
to-morrow,  one,  two,  three,  or  twenty  Academies  of  the  Fine  Arts 
should  endeavour  to  establish  themselves  in  this  country,  you 
must  not  object  to  my  allowing  them  the  same  liberty,  to  which 
in  fact  they  are  legally  entitled,  smce  from  tliis  date,  18G8,  the 
State  can  no  longer  sanction  privileges  or  privileged  bodies.     If 
you  train  capable  men,  I  shall  be  gratefid  to  you,  and  shall 
employ  them  as  occasion  offers ;  but  you   must  allow  me   to 
select  them  from  other  quarters  also,  if  other  institutions  can 
furnish  me  men  of  greater  abdity.    You  wear  dresses  embroidered 
with  green  sUk  ;  I  have  not  the  slightest  objection  to  yoiu*  doing 
so ;  but  I  shall  not  be  able  to  prevent  other  Academies  from 
wearmg  embroideries  of  red  or  yellow.     That  is  a  trifle,  I  know, 
but  I  mention  it  that  you  may  thoroughly  understand  the  spirit 
by  which  our  relations  will  henceforth  be  guided — equality  and 
equal  protection  to  all,  but  no  subsidies,  endowments,  or  salaries  ; 


LECTURE  XIV.     '  153 

I  cannot  allow  the  minority  of  the  Fine  Ai^ts  to  endure  for  ever  ; 
they  have  attained  their  majority,  and  ought  to  know  how  to 
manage  their  affairs ;  I  cannot  suppose  that  they  will  always 
requii-e  the  aid  of  a  family  council.  However,  I  am  not  a  State 
inclined  to  hmit  myself  to  a  passive  attitude  incompatible  with 
my  fmictions.  I  provide  a  school  of  the  Fine  Arts  free  of  charge,  to 
which  are  annexed  a  Museum  of  models  and  a  good  library.  This 
school  ^vill  be  a  public  one  like  the  College  de  France,  and  I  reserve 
to  myself  the  right  of  naming  the  professors  who  shall  occupy  its 
chairs,  either  according  to  the  results  of  public  competitions,  or 
from  among  a  certain  number  of  candidates  elected  by  artists. 

"  Of  coiu'se  I  shall  not  have  the  mere  elementary  branches 
taught  from  these  chaii-s.  That  is  the  province  of  the  special 
schools,  and  I  do  not  undertake  to  be  a  schoolmaster ;  I  concern 
myself  only  with  the  higher  part  of  the  teaching.-  Moreover,  the 
course  of  study  will  not  be  the  occasion  of  exammations  or  dis- 
tributions of  prizes.  Medals  and  degrees  are  likewise  the  business 
of  the  special  schools.  Do  not  suppose  that  I  am  wishing  to  be 
meanly  stingy  in  my  expenditure  on  the  Fine  Arts, — an  exjsen- 
diture  wliich  is  trifling  enough  in  aU  conscience  for  a  great 
country  ;  no,  such  is  not  my  idea  ;  but  masmuch  as  the  resources 
I  have  to  dispose  of  are  barely  sufficient,  I  am  pledged  to 
employ  the  public  money  to  the  best  advantage.  I  shall 
abolish  the  Ecole  de  Rome,  which  is  an  institution,  to  say  the 
least,  of  no  vitihty  in  the  jJi'esent  day.  That  school  may  have 
served  a  good  purjiose  when  it  took  three  months  to  journey  from 
Paris  to  Rome,  when  travelling  in  any  part  of  Europe  was  a. 
difficult  matter,  and  when  the  governments  whose  successor  1 
am,  regarded  this  institution  as  a  convenient  pretext  for  main- 
taining the  influence  of  France  in  the  Eternal  City.  In  our 
times  these  political  motives  are  out  of  date  ;  travelling  is  an 
easy  matter  almost  all  over  the  globe,  but  especially  in  Europe ; 
artists,  and  architects  in  particular,  can  find  something  to  learn 
everywhere ;  and  to  provide  them  an  establishment  at  Rome, 
where  they  lose  that  energy  and  initiative  faculty  which  ai-e  so 
desirable  in  the  present  day,  and  to  habituate  them  to  the  easy 
life  of  the  Villa  Medici, — to  stimulate  that  spirit  of  coterie  among 
young  people  which  leads  them  thus  to  transmit  to  each  other 
the  antiquated  traditions  of  former  generations, — is  neither  wise 
nor  confoiTaable  to  the  spirit  of  the  age.  I  must  observe  that  in 
suppressing  the  £Jcole  de  Rome,  I  do  not  propose  to  restore  to 
the  treasury  the  money  it  costs.  This  is  how  I  projDose  to 
employ  it.  If  I  no  longer  maintain  your  monopoly,  several 
Schools  of  Art  will  be  immediately  formed  in  France,  nay,  even 
private  studios,  m  which,  stimulated  by  free  competition,  an 
endeavour  wiU  be  made  to  give  the  students  the  best  mstruc- 


loi  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

tion  in  the  shortest  possible  time.     It  would  be  evidently  con- 
trary  to  my  interest   not  to  make    inqub'ies    respecting    these 
private  imdertakings  and  their  results.     I  shall  therefore  invite 
those  private  schools  or  studios  to  send  every  year  one  of  their 
pupils  to  take  part  in  a  genei'al  competition  (observe  I  speak  now 
of  architects  only).     The  syllabus  of  subjects  for  the  competition, 
including  two  or  three  grades,  shall  be  chosen  by  lot  from  among 
a  certaia  number  of  such  syllabuses  prepared  by  the  architects 
connected  with  government  works.     The  results  of  the  examina- 
tion shall  be  submitted  to  a  jury  chosen  by  the  competitors, 
excluding,  of  course,  the  teachers  who  shall  have  sent  students 
to  the  examination.     The  awards  shall  be  accompanied  by  the 
reasons  for  them ;  they  shall  be  printed  and  exhibited  in  public 
with  the  designs.     We  shall  see  whether  one  or  more  prizes  can 
be  given  annually.     The  laureate  (supposing  there  is  only  one) 
shall  have  the  opportunity  of  travelling,  if  he  thinks  proper,  and 
where  he  thinks  proper,  in  the  course  of  the  fii-st  and  tliu'd  year. 
At  the  end  of  the  first  year  it  will  be  obhgatory  on  him  to  send 
in  a  study   of  some   existing   monument,    ancient    or  modern, 
accompanied  by  a  critical  and  analytic  memoir.     This  study  will 
be  submitted  to  the  jiuy  elected,  to  decide  on  the  competition  of 
the  following  year :  if  the  work  is  approved,  the  lam-eate  wiU 
enjoy  the  emoluments  of  a  second  year,  which  will  have  to  be 
employed  in  some  commission  assigned  him  by  govermnent.     The 
residts  of  this  will  be  judged  of  as  before.     If  he  is  deemed  com- 
petent, the  privileges  attaching  to  the  third  year  's\'ill  be  granted 
him  ;  at  the  end  of  which  he  wUl  present  a  study,  not  of  a  pubhc 
IjviUding,  but   having  reference  to  an    ensemble   of   structures 
belonging  to  a  certain  country  or  period,  at  his  discretion  ; — this 
study  to  be  analytic  as  well  as  graphic,  and  to  be  fully  developed. 
After  these  trials, — wliich  however  engage  me  to  nothing,  and 
do  not  constitute  any  claim  on  then-  part,  but  which  merely 
establish  the  fact  of  their  ability, — I  give  these  laiu-eates  a  certi- 
ficate of  merit.     It  wUl  evidently  be  my  interest  to  employ  those 
who  are  thus  certificated  in  public  work  ;  but,  I  repeat  it,  I  shall 
consider  myself  at  frill  hberty  to  do  so  or  not." 

If  the  State  shoidd  come  to  make  this  announcement,  and 
sooner  or  later  it  wUl,  there  wUl  be  the  advantage,  1st,  of  con- 
sistency and  of  bringing  our  practical  administration  as  regai'ds 
the  Fine  Arts  into  harmony  with  the  principles  on  which  our 
social  constitution  is  based ;  2d,  embarrassments  would  be  avoided 
— difiicidties  of  minor  importance  I  allow,  but  wliich  are  not 
altogether  insignificant ;  3cZ,  the  State  would  cease  to  be  the 
responsible  guarantor  of  an  irresponsible  body ;  Ath,  it  woidd 
stimidate  the  development  of  serious  and  practical  study,  and 
would  not  have  on  its  hands,  as  is  the  case  now,  a  number  of 


LECTURE  XIV.  155 

mediocrities  assuming  to  have  acquired  a  right  to  the  patronage 
of  the  State,  because  it  educates,  directs,  and  pensions  them, 
and  mai-ks  out  for  them  the  several  stages  they  have  to  pass 
through ;  bth,  it  wovild  restore  to  artists,  and  to  architects  in 
particular,  that  initiative  wliich  is  mdispensable  in  every  Hberal 
career,  which  alone  can  issue  in  practical  restdts,  but  which  is 
carefidly  suppressed  at  the  present  time,  beneath  academical 
iirfluence;  6th,  it  woidd  give  precedence  to  those  general  questions 
in  wliich  society  is  really  interested,  before  merely  personal 
questions,  which  are  interestmg  only  to  a  privileged  body,  .  .  and 
in  tliis  it  woidd  be  confen-ing  a  great  boon. 

I  must  not  pass  over  in  silence  the  argiunents  that  are  brought 
against  such  radical  changes.  These  argniments  ai"e  substanti- 
ally  as  follows,  and  I  acknowledge  that  they  have  some  weight : 
"  If  the  State  abandons  the  teaching  of  architecture  to  private 
enterprise,  that  teachuig  ^-ill  sensibly  degenerate.  From  these 
schools  and  studios  will  come  the  strangest  doctrmes  :  the  good 
sense  and  right  reason  which  you  regard  as  entitled  to  the  supreme 
direction  of  that  teaching  wUl  be  met  with  only  exceptionally. 
Eiu'ope  en^'ies  us  our  Academy  and  Fine  Arts  School,  and  the 
covmtries  wliich  claim  to  be  the  leaders  of  civUisation  have  for 
the  last  sixty  years  made  it  their  constant  endeavoiu  to  imitate 
these  institutions  of  ours  which  you  woidd  destroy.  If  your 
ad\-ice  were  taken,  France  would  find  itself  inimediatelv  relegated 
to  the  lowest  rank  in  aii,  production.  If  the  influence  of  the 
Academy — whose  effects  you  exaggerate — cease  to  exist,  we 
should  lose  all  that  remauis  to  us  of  taste,  feeling,  unity,  and 
grandem*  in  our  architectural  works.  Arcliitects  woidd  no 
longer  be  artists,  but  mere  builders,  skilfid  and  ingenious,  it  may 
be,  but  destitute  of  that  nice  appreciation  of  the  beautifid  which 
is  sustained  by  the  influence  of  the  Academy  amid  all  the 
fluctuations  of  fashion. 

"  By  destroying  an  institution  which,  hke  all  other  things  of 
earth,  is  not  exempt  fi'om  abuses,  though  these  are  fundamentally 
inconsiderable,  you  would  abandon  the  study  of  the  arts  to  the 
influences  of  fashion,  you  wovdd  sacrifice  invaluable  traditions, 
whUe,  for  the  schools  you  allow  to  be  estabhshed,  you  would  not 
have  that  directive  principle  which  is  necessary  for  teaching  of 
every  kind,  and  which,  though  it  may  sometimes  appear  to 
hinder  its  progressive  tendencies,  prevents  it  from  losmg  its  way 
amid  vagaries  which  you  yourself  wovdd  be  the  first  to  deplore. 
There  is  no  danger  in  allowing  to  a  body  which  by  its  very 
constitution  is  not  and  cannot  be  composed  of  any  but  distin- 
guished men  an  influence  pm-ely  moral ;  and  the  influence  of  the 
Academie  des  Bemix  Arts  has  not  and  camiot  have  any  other 
character.     The  weight  it  has  acquu'ed  in  the  teaching  of  ai't 


15G  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

and  in  public  works  is  owing  solely  to  the  value  of  its  doctrines  ; 
or,  if  the  word  doctrme  seems  to  you  out  of  harmony  with  the 
spu'it  of  the  age,  to  the  real  merit  of  the  works  produced  by  each 
of  the  members  composmg  that  body.  You  cannot  prevent 
talent  and  merit  from  encfrclmg  themselves  with  a  halo  of  dis- 
tinction ;  and  you  will  not  siu'ely  deny  that  such  a  radiation  is 
among  the  most  legitimate  and  salutary  of  mfluences.  Besides, 
the  Academic  des  Beaux  Arts  has  no  power  to  forbid  the 
estabhshment  of  Schools  of  Art ;  and  if  it  had  the  power,  there 
is  every  reason  for  believing  that  it  would  not  exercise  it.  Its 
interest  would  lead  it  rather  to  favour  the  opening  of  Schools  of 
Architecture,  as  it  would  be  well  assiu'ed  that  sooner  or  later 
these  schools  would  become  branches  of  the  Ecole  des  Beaux 
Arts.  We  think,  therefore,  that  the  inconveniences — to  use  no 
harsher  term — that  would  residt  from  the  suppression  or  the 
diminution  of  the  status  of  the  Academic  des  Beaux  Arts  would 
be  far  fi'om  being  compensated  by  the  veiy  doubtful  advantages 
that  would  arLse  fi-om  the  withdrawal  of  State  protection.  As 
regards  the  £!colc  dc  Rome,  since  the  decree  passed  in  1863,  the 
period  during  which  the  laureates  enjoy  then-  scholarship  is 
reduced  fi-om  five  to  three  years,  and  of  these  three  years 
students  may  spend  a  considerable  portion  abroad  ;  there  is  there- 
fore no  very  great  difierence  between  what  you  propose  as  an 
improved  arrangement  and  the  one  now  adopted,  wliile  the 
residence  of  the  students  m  the  Villa  Medici  brings  them  into 
companionship,  and  affords  them  an  artistic  environment  which 
may  produce  the  best  residts  on  the  development  of  their 
talents  and  their  futiu-e  com-se.  Isolation  is  not  good  for  any 
one  ;  in  fact  it  is  positively  bad  for  youth,  and  the  criticisms  and 
encouragement  of  fellow-students  are  among  the  most  influential 
means  for  forming  the  tastes  and  the  intellect,  esjDecially  if 
traditions  of  vigorous  study  influence  this  life  m  conunon.  In 
short,  we  should  leave  to  tune  gradually  to  improve  what  is 
defective  or  contrary  to  the  spirit  of  the  age  in  the  Academic 
and  the  J^colc  des  Beaux  Arts  m  then-  architectural  branches; 
but  it  would  be  imprudent  to  make  abrupt  changes." 

To  such  representations,  which  every  one  has  heard  or  read, 
for  they  have  been  uttered  or  "wiitten  again  and  again,  in  various 
forms  reproducing  the  same  arguments,  it  may  be  rephed  :  If 
an  institution  having  no  political  character  requii-es  for  its  main- 
tenance the  special  protection  of  the  State,  it  must  be  because 
it  has  not  a  vitahty  of  its  own  to  sustain  it,  and  is  consequently 
regarded  by  the  pubhc  as  unnecessary.  We  do  not  ask  for  the 
siappression  of  the  Academic  and  the  ^cole  des  Beaux  Arts,  m 
its  architectural  section  ;  we  only  ask  that  the  State  shall  cease 
to  protect  the  one  and  direct  the  other  on  its  own  responsibihty. 


LECTURE  XIV.  157 

We  know  indeed  that,  in  the  view  of  that  Academy  and  School, 
to\\4thch-aw  from  them  the  support  of  the  State  is  to  deprive  them 
of  the  influence  exercised  by  that  body ;  but  it  is  from  that  veiy 
influence,  which  we  consider  deleterious,  that  in  the  interest  of 
art  itself  we  ■«dsh  it  to  be  delivered.  Time  may  improve  or 
modify  free  associations  ;  it  brings  no  new  element  into  corporate 
bodies  that  shelter  their  own  irresponsibility  behind  the  respon- 
sibility of  the  State.  Liberty  is  essential  to  continuous  progress. 
But  a  protected  body  cannot  be  more  free  than  the  protector 
of  that  body.  In  this  case  the  State  and  corporate  body  are 
attached  to  the  two  ends  of  one  chain ;  and  as  the  State  is 
Uttle  able  to  occupy  itself  with  the  details  that  particularly 
interest  the  coi'poration,  the  latter,  whose  sole  busmess  these 
are,  di'aws  the  chain  towards  its  side.  There  is  therefore  no 
other  means  of  assuring  the  independence  of  the  two  parties  than 
cutting  the  chain.  The  Academie  des  Beaux  Arts,  which  in  our 
opinion  exerts  so  mjiu-ious  an  influence  on  the  teaching  and 
practice  of  architecture,  would  probably  become  a  usefrd  associa- 
tion as  soon  as  it  was  completely  mdependent,  and  had  to 
struggle  on  a  footing  of  equality  with  other  societies.  It  would 
always  have  its  time-honoured  associations  in  its  favom- ;  but  it 
could  no  longer  make  these  smooth  the  path  for  mere  mediocrities. 
Havmg  no  personal  interest  in  the  question,  since  we  have 
always  preferred  our  own  mdependence  to  the  advantages 
attaching  to  the  title  of  member  of  the  Academie  des  Beaux  A  rts, 
we  have  attentively  regarded  the  course  of  those  events  which 
might  have  had  the  effect  of  modifying  the  sjju'it  of  that 
institution.  Within  the  last  thfrty  years  the  j^^^'sonnel  of  the 
architectural  section  has  been,  it  must  be  observed,  completely 
renewed.  Not  only  is  the  majority  of  the  members  of  that 
section  selected  fi-om  among  the  elite  of  om'  architects,  but  it 
consists  of  men  who  previously  to  membership,  and  ever  since, 
have  manifested  mdlvidually  the  most  generous  and  liberal 
tendencies.  Among  these  distinguished  mchviduals  there  are 
even  some  who  may  have  passed  for  revolutionary,  i.e.  disposed 
to  very  radical  modifications  m  the  system  of  instruction  approved 
of  by  the  academy  and  the  course  adopted  in  reference  to  pubhc 
works.  But  such  is  the  inherent  force  of  circumstances,  that 
these  hberal  and  enhghtened  spirits,  once  admitted  mto  the 
fi-atemity,  have  not  been  able  to  modify  its  character,  but  have 
been  compelled  to  reduce  their  ojjinions  or  personal  tendencies 
to  that  dead  level  of  uniformity  which  is  the  law  of  the  body. 
In  fact,  this  hberal  and  enlightened  majority  is  subjected  to  the 
yoke  imposed  by  the  minority,  because  the  minority,  which  does 
not  consist  of  men  of  distmguished  genius,  has  no  other  object 
than  to  keep  up  the  esprit  du  corps,  has  a  wide-spread  connection 


158  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

in  the  higher  administrative  bodies  as  well  as  among  the  members 
of  the  school,  and  is  thus  able  to  preserve  the  jaower  which  the 
protection  of  the  State  has  enabled  it  to  acquire. 

Thus  the  Academie  des  Beaux  Arts  (the  architectural  section) 
is  really  outside  the  institute,  and  therefore  we  call  it  a 
fraternity  [congregation).  It  foUows  in  the  wake  of  a  coterie 
consistmg  of  actively  influential  mediocrities,  all  whose  power 
consists  in  the  protection  accorded  by  the  State.  Withdraw 
that  protection,  and  the  very  remarkable  result  wiU  follow  that 
this  class  of  the  institute  restored  to  independence  will  enter  on 
a  liberal  course,  and  will  become  as  helpful  as  it  is  now  obstruc- 
tive to  progress. 

We  must  therefore  expect  nothing  from  the  effect  of  tune, 
if  the  State  remains  the  protector  of  the  Academu'  des  Beaux 
Arts  and  the  director  of  architectui-al  training.  Rather  we  must 
expect  a  more  and  more  marked  degradation  in  the  character  of 
the  body  itself,  and  of  the  studies  it  presides  over.  Do  we 
suppose  that  in  the  present  state  of  society  the  level  of  literary 
philosophical  and  scientific  studies  woidd  be  raised  if  ecclesiastical 
corporations  had  the  monopoly  of  teaching  in  France  ?  or  if,  in 
rivalry  with  such  institutions,  we  had  not  the  University  and 
private  schools,  and  the  College  de  France  ?  Yet  all  that  con- 
cerns instruction  in  architecture,  and  the  destiny  of  individual 
architects,  is  in  the  hands  of  a  corporation  subject  to  influences 
which  are  concealed  from  the  light  of  day,  and  whose  action  is 
sheltered  by  the  "  Institut." 

A  time  is  sure  to  come  when  corporate  bodies  can  no  longer  be 
directed  by  men  of  genius, — when  they  become  subject  to  the  rule 
of  a  mediocrity  which  looks  no  fm'ther  than  satisfying  mterests, 
and  has  no  ambition  to  secure  the  triumph  of  principles.  When 
things  are  come  to  this  pass,  talent  and  even  genius,  which  are 
unhappily  betrayed  into  such  an  environment,  cannot  impart  to 
it  any  vivifying  element,  but  are  the  fii'st  to  be  subjected  to  the 
tyranny  of  conceited  mediocrities. 

In  reference  to  the  course  prescribed  by  the  J^cole  de  Rome, 
the  following  is  what  every  cool  and  impartial  observer  must 
have  remarked.  Wliile  life  and  study  in  community  may  suit 
very  young  people,  they  are  most  injurious  to  the  development 
of  superior  talent  when  that  second  youth  begms  which  sees  the 
growing  fruit  ripening.  Let  those  who  have  followed  with  any  suc- 
cess a  career  in  arts  or  letters  question  then  own  memories,  and 
recall  the  period  that  intervened  between  their  earhest  studies  and 
that  m  which  the  residts  of  those  studies  began  to  be  realised. 
What  uncertainties  and  anxieties !  .  .  .  The  mind  at  that  time  full 
of  ill-defined  cravings,  knows  not  where  or  how  to  satisfy  them. 
It  has  need  of  cahn  reflection  that  it  may  classify  the  elements  it 


LECTURE  XIV.  159 

has  not  yet  been  able  to  assimilate.  It  requires  to  perform  a  pro- 
cess of  '  clearing,'  as  we  may  call  it.  It  feels  the  need  of  a  method, 
though  it  know  not  as  yet  what  method  is.  It  is  in  this  crisis  of 
fermentation  that  real  talents  develop  themselves,  but  on  that 
very  account  they  must  be  left  to  themselves,  and  not  have  placed 
before  them  a  ready-made  path,  for  they  woidd  probably  follow 
it.  It  is  only  fools  who  at  twenty-five  believe  they  are  geniuses. 
At  this  age  true  merit  (without  supposing  it  to  amoimt  to 
genius)  is,  on  the  contrary,  anxious,  disquieted,  and  self-distrust- 
ftd,  because  it  has  a  vague  glimpse  of  toilsome  work  before  it, 
and  feels  its  strength  without  knowing  to  what  to  apply  it. 
Such  natiu-es,  the  only  ones  we  need  to  consider  in  the  common- 
wealth of  arts  and  letters,  do  not  develop  themselves  in  a 
seminary  of  art  or  of  literatm-e  ;  on  the  contrary,  they  pine  in 
such  an  atmosphere.  From  the  very  chcimistance  of  their  feel- 
ing that  doubt,  anxiety,  and  shrmkuig  modesty  which  foresees 
the  length  and  dilEcidties  of  the  task,  they  soon  allow  themselves 
to  be  seduced  by  the  plausible  offers  of  easy  and  quiet  study  ; 
they  ai'e  iuchned  to  beheve  in  the  advantages  of  associated  work, 
and  perhaps  more  than  others  they  feel  gi'ateful  for  the  protec- 
tion offered  to  these  doubts  and  hesitations  ;  and  unless  they 
are  endowed  wdth  rare  energy  of  character,  they  are  apt  to 
abdicate  individual  responsibihty.  How  many  students  of  the 
£cole  de  Rome,  who  promised  brilliantly  at  starting,  produce 
works  of  a  more  and  more  sphitless  character !  On  the  other 
hand,  this  regime  is  admirably  well  suited  to  mere  mediocrities  ; 
it  gives  them  that  security,  confidence,  presumption,  which  are 
often  an  element  of  success  .  .  for  themselves,  .  .  .  but  of 
grievous  disappointment  to  that  part  of  the  public  which  is 
interested  in  art.  The  French  Seminary  of  Architectm-e  in  Rome 
is  therefore  m  our  judginent  the  origm  of  those  prepostei-ous  and 
costly  vidgarities  which  fill  our  cities.  And  the  few  distin- 
guished artists  who  issue  from  that  school — there  are  certainly 
some  whom  we  might  name — form  a  class  without  mfluence, — 
respected  perhaps,  and  certauily  most  estimable  in  character,  but 
obliged  to  deplore  in  silence  that  predominance  of  certificated 
mediocrities  who  are  compromising  the  future  of  our  art.  The 
real  sentiment  of  this  class  of  artists  is,  we  are  assured,  identical 
with  our  own  in  this  matter ;  but  as  they  are  members  of  the 
fraternity  themselves,  they  consider  it  incumbent  on  them  to 
submit  to  its  tyranny  without  complamt. 

Let  the  State,  therefore,  which  cannot  inquire  into  these 
trifles,  but  which  suftei'S  from  the  mischief  thus  occasioned, 
apply  the  only  remedy  possible  ;  let  it  put  complete  hberty, 
unlimited  competition,  m  place  of  the  regime  of  protection.  It 
will  be  the  first  to  benefit  by  the  change,  for  in  giving  liberty  to 


IGO  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

all,  it  will  regain  its  own  liberty,  and  will  no  longer  be  obliged,  in 
contravention  of  its  own  interests,  to  humour  a  monopoly  which, 
moreover,  the  present  state  of  society  cannot  long  tolerate. 

No  real  competition  is  possible  with  the  existing  organisa- 
tion of  the  ilcole  des  Beaux  Arts.  The  gratuitous  character  of 
the  education  given,  the  series  of  prizes  culminating  in  the 
Pi'ix  de  Rome  and  a  kind  of  claim  to  employment  on  returning 
from  the  Villa  Medici,  and  the  support  of  the  coterie  whose  head 
is  at  the  Academie  des  Beaux  Arts,  which  is  mistress  of  the 
situation,  are  enticements  too  seductive  for  young  men  not  to 
yield  to  them.  But  it  is  evident  that  at  the  present  day 
mtellectual  work  of  every  kind  which  has  not  the  stimulus  of 
free  competition  must  soon  degenerate,  and  that  every  monopoly 
conduces  to  inferiority  in  production.  It  is  therefore  a  mockery 
to  tell  ixs  that  the  teacliing  of  architecture  is  fi'ee  ;  inasmuch  as 
the  protection  of  the  State  attracts  students  to  a  single  privi- 
leged school,  and  which  by  the  influence  of  circumstances  is 
itself  subjected  to  a  privileged  body.  Let  the  resources  of  the 
State  be  apjolied,  not  to  maintaining  a  corporation  and  a  particu- 
lar organisation,  but  to  making  use  of  proved  abUity  wherever  it 
may  come  fi-om  ;  this  is  all  that  can  reasonably  be  asked  of  it, 
and  it  is  the  only  means  of  elevating  the  teacliing  of  Art. 

The  meshes  of  the  net  spread  by  the  corporate  body  in  ques- 
tion around  all  the  positions  to  which  architects  aspire,  are  not 
so  close  as  to  prevent  the  introduction  among  them  of  arcliitec- 
inYi\[  free-thinkers.  The  latter  do  not  indeed  reach  the  elevations 
which  are  carefully  resei"ved  for  submissive  adepts,  but  they 
sometimes  find  an  opportunity  of  showing  their  capacity.  And 
it  is  interesting  to  observe  that,  wliile  the  greater  part  of  the 
more  important  arcliitectviral  works  executed  in  our  day  exhibit 
the  strangest  and  most  expensive  assemblage  of  incoherent 
elements,  works  of  a  more  modest  character  often  bear  that 
stamp  of  knowledge,  reasoning  power,  and  exact  acquaintance 
with  the  value  and  nature  of  materials  which  we  should  be  glad 
to  recognise  in  our  more  pretentious  edifices.  The  authors  of  the 
designs  in  question  are  not,  it  is  true,  laureates  of  the  Institute  ; 
they  have  not  passed  the  ordeal  of  the  l^cole  des  Beaux  Arts  ; 
their  name  is  scarcely  known,  and  they  will  never  be  members 
of  the  Conseil  des  hathnents  vivils,  now  that  the  Council  has 
become  a  mere  branch  of  the  Academie  des  Beaux  Arts,  in  con- 
travention of  the  spirit  of  its  organisation  ;  they  wiU  never 
occupy  a  chair  beneath  the  dome  of  the  Quai  Conti  ;  but  they 
are  leaving  works  which  are  some  consolation  to  sensible  men  in 
view  of  those  orgies  in  stone  to  which  their  more  privileged 
fellow  architects  comnut  themselves.  Their  modest  talent 
occupies  itself  with  practical  appliances,  seeking  to  perfect  and 


LECTURE  XIV.  IGl 

make  tlie  best  and  most  economical  use  of  them.  It  is  they  who 
brmg  into  use  certain  industrial  appliances  connected  with  build- 
ing, because  they  condescend  to  give  reason  and  the  interests  of 
then'  chents  the  precedence  before  the  satisfaction  of  their  own 
fancies.  Whence,  then,  did  these  architects  get  these  methods, 
— tills  often  precocious  experience  ?  Was  it  at  the  Illcole  des 
Beaux  Arts  ?  Certainly  not ;  it  was  from  then*  own  mtelligence 
and  private  studies,  pm'sued  with  sci'upulous  care  and  without 
prepossessions.  It  is  therefore  not  correct  to  say  that  outside  that 
school  no  teaching  woiUd  be  possible,  or  that  it  would  degenerate 
if  that  privileged  school  ceased  to  exist.  Make  the  teaching 
of  architecture  really  free  by  ceasing  to  maintain  a  privileged 
establishment,  and  you  vsdll  immediately  see  those  intelhgent 
and  conscientious  men,  with  their  modest  knowledge  and  prac- 
tical experience,  take  the  lead  in  impartmg  instruction  fruitful  in 
residts,  free  from  the  prejudices  of  coteries,  and  not  slavishly 
following  routine.  You  will  see  this  instruction  developing  itself 
not  in  forming  a  disciplined  and  exclusive  body,  aspnmg  only  to 
the  rewai'ds  that  will  provide  comfortable  positions  for  its  mem- 
bers, but  m  traming  for  the  public  service  men  who  will  have 
only  their  personal  merit  to  recommend  them,  who  will  be  mde- 
pendent  and  carefid,  because  if  they  commit  blunders,  they  will 
not  be  able  to  fall  back  upon  the  influence  of  a  powerful  and 
irresponsible  body  to  cloak  them. 

Twenty  years  ago,  exterior  to  and  side  by  side  with  the 
£coIe  des  Bccmx  Arts,  there  existed  what  were  then  called 
ateliers,  i.e.  societies  of  yomig  men  woi'king  undei'  the  du'ection 
of  a  master.  In  these  ateliers  architectiu'e  was  really  learned  ; 
the  elementary  branches  which  should  ^^recede  the  study  of  this 
art  bemg  taught  everywhere.  These  ateliers,  m  competition  with 
each  other,  and  even  du-ected  by  teachers  whose  pruiciples  were 
often  opposed  to  each  other,  occasioned  a  ferment  of  mtellectual 
activity  wliich  has  produced  distmguished  talents  and  nidepen- 
dent  characters.  The  whole  of  the  school  that  was  subject  to 
the  "  Institut "  was  at  that  time  endeavoui'ing  to  counteract  these 
hberal  tendencies,  to  reduce  these  minds  to  a  dead  level  beneath 
Academic  influence  ;  but  it  did  not  always  succeed  in  doing  so. 
If  these  ateliers  still  exist  in  name,  they  no  longer  exist  as  far  as 
the  spu-it  that  dbected  them  is  concerned.  The  Academic  level- 
ling ajiparatus,  in  spite  of  the  decree  of  1863,  has  passed  over 
them,  and  has  reduced  the  heights  and  filled  up  the  hollows. 
Those  institutions  showed  us  not  merely  isolated  students,  but 
whole  bodies  of  them,  revolting  against  routine,  giving  proof  of 
•  juvenile  freshness,  determining  to  be  no  longer  satisfied  with 
unexplained  conventions,  but  to  follow  those  laws  which  ex- 
amination and  reasoning  had  revealed  to  their  minds.     Thus,  from 

VOL.  II.  L 


162  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

an  intellectual  point  of  view,  we  have  been  retrograding  instead 
of  advancing,  for  there  is  always  retrogression  in  teaching,  as  in 
everything  else,  when  a  single  corporate  body  is  allowed  to  open 
and  close  the  doors  at  its  will.     To  those  prmciples  and  ideas 
which  nomished  the  intellect  of  our  students  and  nerved  them 
to  enter  resolutely  into  the  arena,  ready  to  struggle  even  to  the 
detriment  of  theh  uiterests,  has  succeeded  a  ravenous  greed  for 
positions.     Thus,    m    the   various   boards   uatrusted   with    the 
management  of  architectural  works,  we  have  seen  the  number  of 
those  places  multipUed  to  satisfy  the  requisitions  made  for  them 
on  behalf  of  those  who  had  the  support  of  the  privileged  frater- 
nity.    In   most   of  the  offices  connected  with  public  buildings 
and  those  of  the  city  of  Paris,  the  staff  is  twice  as  large  as  it 
need  be.     Here  agaua  persons  take  pi-ecedence  of  principles  ;  and 
there  is  far  more  anxiety  to  find  places  for  the  proteges  of  the 
fraternity  at  all  stages  of  their  career  than  to  procure  those  who 
would  best  execute  the  work.     These  niunerous  agents  receive 
but  small  salaries,  it  is  true,  but  their  labom-  is  not  considerable, 
and  then-  number  tends  to  divide  that  moral  responsibility  which 
ought  to  rest  on  each  several  agent.     The  sum  total  of  their 
salaries,  given  to  a  body  proportionate  to  the  work,  woidd  pro- 
duce more  satisfactory  results  and  a  better  guarantee  of  their 
adequacy.       But    this   is    not    the    object   contemplated ;    the 
demands  of  the  fraternity  must  be  satisfied,  and  the  more  fully 
they  are  satisfied,  and  the  more  numerous  the  fraternity  becomes, 
the  more  its  mfluence  extends.     Only  the  profound  ignorance  in 
which  the  public  have  been  assiduously  kept  respecting  all  ques- 
tions  that  relate   to   the   practical   apphcations  of  architecture 
could  have  brought  tlungs  to  such  a  pass  as  we  behold  them  in 
at  present.     It  is  therefore  the  pubhc  that  I  appeal  to  here  ;  for 
its  opinion  alone  will  be  able  to  counteract  the  abuses  I  have 
pointed  out,  and  which  it  will  make  head  against  as  soon  as  it 
clearly  recognises  the  fact  that  it  is  interested  in  the  highest 
degree  in  the  right  and  wise  direction  of  the  architectural  works 
undertaken  for  it. 

Supposing  the  Academy  of  Architecture  separated  from  the 
State  or  the  administrative  boards,  i.e.  supposing  there  were 
complete  hberty,  it  would  no  longer  be  necessary  thus  to  pro- 
vide places,  half  of  which  at  least  are  useless,  for  this  anny, 
recruited  by  the  Academy  to  confirm  its  power.  Why,  we  may 
ask,  shoidd  government  boards  burden  themselves  with  the 
nomination  and  dii-ection  of  this  numerous  staflf  ?  Why  should 
they  encumber  themselves  with  a  hierarchy  of  architects,  from 
the  architect  in  cliief  down  to  the  actual  clerk  of  the 
works  ?  Before  the  law  these  agents  have  no  responsibility  ;  the 
architect  alone  answers  for  the  execution  of  the  work.     Then 


LECTURE  XIV.  163 

wliy  not  leave  liiin  the  privilege  attached  to  responsibility, 
that  is  hberty  ?  The  administration  gives  an  architect  a  com- 
mission :  at  the  same  time  it  assigns  him  a  staff  of  agents.  I 
grant  that  it  consults  hmi  respecting  the  choice  and  even  the 
nimiber  of  them,  though  this  is  not  always  done,  and  there  is  no 
obhg-ation  to  do  so.  Why  does  it  not  allow  him  the  option  of 
making  a  selection  (since  he  is  legally  responsible)  of  the  staff 
he  requires,  both  as  to  capacity  and  number  ?  Or,  if  he  tliuiks 
proper,  shoidd  he  not  be  allowed  to  dispense  with  such  a  staff 
altogether,  and  to  do  all  the  ai-chitectural  work  himself?  And 
I  may  observe  that  this  is  the  case  sometimes  ;  I  could  mention 
certain  cases  of  the  kind  in  wliich  the  architect  alone  works, 
taking  upon  himself  the  design,  the  details  of  the  execution,  and 
the  accounts,  going  to  the  works  in  the  morning  and  not  leaving 
them  before  the  workmen  ;  while  his  staff  are  attending  to  their 
personal  affau's  or  doing  nothing  at  all.  And  we  can  easily  under- 
stand why  tliis  should  be  so  in  the  present  state  of  affau's.  In 
the  first  place,  it  is  disagreeable  to  have  to  play  the  usher,  to 
mark  the  absences  or  shortcomuigs  of  employes  who  are  not 
directly  dependent  on  you,  and  whose  remunei'ation  is  often 
insufficient, — who  ui  fact  could  not  keep  themselves  and  theii" 
families  on  what  they  receive.  After  a  few  hints  and  remon- 
strances the  architect  decides  to  say  nothing,  but  to  do  all  him- 
self, as  he  is  the  responsible  party.  I  have  seen  architects  whom 
I  could  name  going  to  take  memoranda  at  their  works  while  the 
appointed  clerks  were  leisui'ely  enjoying  themselves.  And  even 
supposmg  one  had  the  good  fortune  to  possess  a  staff"  of  conscien- 
tious clerks,  it  woidd  be  a  matter  of  further  anxiety  to  know 
whence  they  came,  what  was  the  extent  of  their  acquisitions,  and 
what  were  theix  aptitudes  and  tastes.  Too  often  such  employes 
have  not  the  most  elementaiy  notion  of  practical  building ;  havmg 
come  from  the  School  of  Arcliitectm-e  thoroughly  imbued  with  the 
illusions  which  that  institution  fosters  m  the  minds  of  pupUs, 
they  regard  the  practical  side  of  oiu  art  with  disgust.  They 
fancy  themselves  tied  to  an  occupation  which  is  unworthy  of  their 
merits  :  have  they  not  gained  prizes  1  have  they  not  (on  paper 
at  least)  erected  splendid  edifices  which  have  called  forth  the 
admh'ation  of  theii'  companions  and  gained  them  the  Prix  de 
Eome  ?  Do  they  not  'feel  themselves  called  on  to  dazzle  the 
public  by  superior  conceptions  ?  Are  these  young  men  to  super- 
intend excavations,  to  direct  the  composition  of  concrete,  to 
choose  materials  and  satisfy  themselves  that  the  stone-di-essers 
are  doing  the  work  according  to  the  designs  ?  As  well  ask  a 
captain  in  the  army  to  perform  the  extra  duties  and  sweep  the 
barracks  !  Supposing  again  that  tins  staff  of  clerks  were  inchned 
to  aid  you,  that  they  were  willing  to  make  themselves  of  use  at 


1G4  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

the  works,  it  is  stUl  a  question  whether  they  have  followed  your 
methods,  are  unbued  with  the  prmciples  that  gxiide  you,  and 
would  act  as  yoiu*  pupils  and  assistants.  In  most  cases  they 
axe  almost  strangers  to  you ;  or  they  may  come  to  yoiu-  office 
imbued  with  ideas  and  methods  the  very  opposite  to  your  own. 
If  you  give  them  anything  to  do,  you  soon  perceive  by  the  way 
in  which  they  set  about  it  that  you  will  either  have  to  yield  to 
their  ideas,  or  that  you  will  have  to  begin  a  new  course  of 
instruction  with  them  ;  and  then  it  will  happen,  nuie  times  out 
of  ten,  that  you  can  do  mthout  their  help,  or  that  you  have  in 
your  Avorks  a  person  disposed  to  criticise  everything,  and  who  is 
delighted  if  something  goes  wfong.  Let  the  administrative 
boards  cease  to  give  themselves  so  much  trouble ;  let  them  leave 
to  architects  the  task  of  selecting  their  agents  where  and  how 
they  think  fit ;  then  we  shall  have  excellent  instruction  without 
wanting  a  privileged  school.  In  fact  every  building-yard  will 
become  a  school,  the  best  possible ;  for  there  is  no  architect  of 
merit  who  would  not  be  inclined,  when  he  undertakes  a  build- 
ing, to  establish  his  atelier  of  pupils  at  the  works,  and  to  make 
them  execute,  according  to  their  capacities  and  grade  of  ac- 
quirements, work  useful  to  himself  and  profitable  to  them. 
This  is  the  case  in  private  buildmg  enterprises,  and  so  it 
happens  that  from  the  building-yards  in  connection  with 
them  there  issue  men  who  are  really  capable  and  usefid  ;  and 
thus,  in  contrast  with  our  public  edifices,  our  private  habitations 
are  generally  well  planned,  economically  buUt,  and  skilfully 
constructed. 

We  can  understand  an  organisation  such  as  that  of  the  "Bridges 
and  Highways"  {Potits  et  Chaussees),  which  consists  of  a  select 
body,  and  of  superintendents  who  (with  rare  exceptions  due  to 
extraordinary  capacity)  remain  superintendents  for  life.  It 
matters  little  to  an  engineer  whether  the  superintendent  of  his 
works  is  Peter  or  Paul ;  he  is  a  superintendent  of  i-ecognised 
capability ;  if  he  is  not  so,  a  change  is  made,  but  the  superin- 
tendent of  Fonts  et  Chaussees  is  not  an  aspirant  to  the  rank  of 
engineer  ;  he  does  not  regard  the  period  he  passes  at  the  works 
as  a  necessary  stage  to  his  admission  to  higher  functions.  He 
performs  his  work  honestly  and  frankly  without  any  arriere- 
pensee ;  he  has  not  been  intoxicated  by  successes  at  the  Ecole, 
and  does  not  consider  that  the  time  he  has  passed  at  the  works 
is  so  much  lost  to  the  piu'suit  of  that  art  to  which  his  aspirations 
are  virging-  him.  I  am  far  from  sucj o-estinof  that  such  an  oi'o-anisa- 
tion — one,  moreover,  which  is  not  in  harmony  with  the  habitudes 
of  the  day — should  be  a23plied  to  practical  architecture  ;  but  the 
middle  course  adopted  by  the  administration,  m  reference  to  the 
direction   of  architectural   works,    presents    the   inconvenience 


LECTURE  XIV.  165 

attending  all  plans  not  deduced  from  a  logical  principle  ;  it  lias 
neither  the  advantages  of  the  system  adopted  in  the  Fonts  et 
Chaussees  nor  the  advantages  of  liberty.  But,  as  I  said  before, 
the  point  least  considered  in  all  these  matters  is  art  and  the 
public  interest.  The  chief  object  is  to  secure  to  the  Academie 
lies  Beaux  Arts  the  perpetuation  of  its  influence,  and,  with  a 
view  to  this,  positions  for  those  who  put  themselves  under  its 
protection.  It  is  only  by  degrees,  and  unconsciously  I  may  say, 
that  our  administrative  boards  have  been  reduced  to  this 
absolute  deference  to  those  encroachments  on  the  jaart  of  the 
architectural  section  of  the  "  Institut."  The  time  has  been,  and 
at  no  distant  date,  when  men  high  in  office  were  sensible  of  those 
encroachments,  and  showed  some  tendency  to  free  themselves 
from  this  increasing  dependence  on  the  Academy.  That  time 
has  passed  away  ;  in  our  days  those  high  functionaries  have  other 
cares,  perhaps  of  a  graver  kind,  and  they  leave  to  subalterns 
that  of  jjroviding  for  these  interests.  It  is  unnecessaiy  to  add 
that  these  subalterns  have  become  the  allies  of  the  all-powerful 
fraternity,  since  they  can  derive  nothing  but  advantage  from 
their  compliance  with  its  increased  cravii^g  for  influence,  and 
neither  honour  nor  profit  can  accrue  to  them  from  a  struggle 
against  it. 

Persons  of  matured  and  vigorous  character  never  allow  them- 
selves to  be  seduced  mto  such  compliance  with  a  corporate  body, 
and  it  must  be  allowed  that  men  do  not  reach  the  higher  officers 
of  State,  or  at  any  rate  do  not  maintain  such  positions  unless 
they  possess  a  certain  amount  of  dignified  impartiality  which 
revolts  against  being  mixed  up  with  the  interests  of  a  coterie  ; 
but  in  these  times  men  in  high  places  are  too  much  occupied 
with  graver  matters  to  be  able  to  exercise  their  impartiahty  in 
all  the  trifling  details  of  their  administration.  They  leave  these 
details  to  subordinates,  and  it  is  evident  that  these  have  neither 
the  will  nor  the  power  to  resist  the  persistent  influence  of  a  body 
which  has  its  connections  everywhere,  and  is  placed  under  the 
protection  of  the  State.  Even  a  minister  (in  the  present  state 
of  things)  woidd  scarcely  have  sufficient  authority  to  enable  him 
to  break  through  the  Academic  network  that  envelops  his 
administration.  Should  he  attempt  it,  he  would  soon  bring 
upon  himself  a  world  of  opponents,  and  his  own  ministerial 
staff*  would  be  an  obstacle  in  his  way.  Of  this  fact  the 
Academic  fraternity  are  well  aware,  and  all  its  efforts,  especially 
during  the  last  few  years,  have  had  this  consideration  pretty 
steadily  and  continuously  in  view.  There  is  thus  only  one 
method,  as  simple  as  it  is  effective,  of  breaking  the  charm,  and 
that  is  a  complete  separation  of  the  State  from  the  Academic 
fraternity, — the   hberty  of  teaching  in   architecture,   and   the 


166  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

resolution  on  the  part  of  the  Government  to  give  up  playing  the 
schoolmaster:  in  fact,  the  substitution  of  free  competition  for  the 
jyrotective  system  ;  the  responsibility  of  the  architect  for  State 
direction   everywhere   and   over   everything, — a   responsibility 
which,  moreover,  is  imposed  on  him  by  the  law.    Then,  and  then 
only,  wUl  a  really  thorough  system  of  instruction  arise,  without 
any  obligation  on  the  part  of  the  State  to  trouble  itself  in  the 
matter ;  just  as  the  system  of  instruction  at  the  Central  School 
of  Arts  and  Manufactures  was  formed/    It  would  be  imreason- 
able  to  bring  university  teaching  as  an  argument  in  favour  of 
State  superintendence  in  the  teaching  of  architectm-e.      I  will 
not    discuss   the    question   whether    our    university  system    is 
favourable  or  unfavourable  to  the  intellectual  development  of  the 
youth  of  France  ;  I  maintain  only  that  there  is  no  analogy  between 
the   two  kinds  of  teaching.     It  may  be  reasonably  maintained 
that  it  is  the  duty  of  the  State  to  maintain  a  uniform  system  in 
the  teaching  of  our  Public  Schools  (Lycdes).     In  these  we  have  to 
take  children  from  their  families  and  make  citizens  of  them  ;  to 
prepare  them  for  entering  on  the  various  careers  open  to  them, 
while  subjecting  them  to  that  regime  of  equality  which  is  the 
fmidamental  principle  of  our  social  state  ;  but  when  tliey  have 
quitted  this  intellectual  gymnasium  which  has  made,  or  ought 
to  have  made  of  all  these  children,  citizens  in  the  germ,  the 
State  has  fulfilled  its  task.     We  can  also  see  the  reason  for  the 
State  maintainmg  special  schools  besides  the,  lyceums,  such  as 
those  of  Saint  Cyr,  of  the  Pouts  et  Ghaussees,  those  of  Law  and 
of  Medicine  ;  because  that  of  Saint  Cjr  is  the  nursery  of  the 
army,  that  of  the  Fonts  et  Ghaussees  a  training  institution  for  our 
engineers,  who  form  a  regular  organised  body  ;    because   the 
State  deems  it  its  duty  to  protect  the  health  of  the  citizens  ; 
because  Law  is  immutable,  and  the  Magistracy  is  a  function  of 
the  State ;  but  we  cannot  continue  this  reasoning  in  regard  to 
architecture.     This  art  is  subject,  or  ought  to  be  subject,  to  all 
the  changes  that  supervene  in  the  habits  of  society.     Notliing 
is  more  rational  than  that  a  Professor  of  Law  shoukl  teach  law 
under  the  protection  of  the  State,  since  it  Ls  the  State  wliicli 
makes  the  law  and  presides   over   its  execution  ;   but  that  a 
Professor  of  Architecture  should  teach  a  particular  architectural 
form  under  the  protection  of  the  State,  is  almost  ridiculous.     I, 
a  private  individual,  cannot  make  a  law ;  but  I  may  invent  an 
architectural  form  ;  and  if  it  is  a  desirable  one,  why  should  the 
State  intervene  to  prevent   me  from  teachmg  or  applying  it  ? 
The  State  in  our  lyceums  teaches  hteratm-e,  history,  and  the 

1  The  ^co/c  CentraU  des  Arts  et  Mamifnctures  is  now  placed  imiler  State  control, 
which,  in  the  opinion  of  many,  is  to  be  deplored  ;  but  it  vas  originally  established  and 
obtained  the  influence  we  witness  by  private  effort. 


LECTURE  XIV.  167 

sciences  according  to  an  approved  method  ;  that  is  all  veiy  well ; 
but  the  State  does  not  teach  the  writing  of  novels,  comedies, 
or  histories.  From  Havre  to  Marseilles  we  should  hear  a 
shout  of  ridicide  if  the  State  was  to  set  about  opening  a 
School  of  Literature  ;  if  it  made  yoimg  people  "WTite  novels 
or  comedies  at  certam  horns  ;  if  it  put  them  in  cells  to  give 
themselves  up  to  their  inspirations  ;  if  it  gave  them  prizes  and 
sent  them  to  Rome  to  make  them  better  acquainted  with 
Tacitus  and  Cicero,  or  to  Spam  to  study  the  old  Spanish 
theatre. 

Architectiu-e  is  an  art  based  upon  several  sciences.  And 
these  sciences — geometiy,  mathematics,  chemistry,  mechanics — 
are  taught  everywhere.  But  at  the  point  where  art  comes  in, 
the  State  has  no  more  to  do  vaih.  directing  the  teaching  than 
with  inquiring  how  novels  and  comedies  are  produced.  At  this 
stage,  each  artist,  each  author,  must  find  out  his  own  path. 
There  is  no  such  thing  as  official  arcliitectm-e  or  official  htera- 
tiu-e  ;  and  between  the  pubhc  and  the  artist  or  wi-iter  no  power 
can  intei-vene  to  any  good  purpose.  Such  an  intervention  may 
have  been  tried  imder  Louis  xiv.,  but  it  must  be  relegated  to 
the  same  category  as  the  machine  de  Marly.  Unfortimately  we 
have  still  many  machines  de  Marly,  and  we  can  imderstand  how 
those  whose  business  it  ls  to  grease  them,  and  who  get  their 
living  by  this  employment,  shoidd  assiune  that  the  world  will 
come  to  an  end  if  those  machines  are  touched,  or  if  steam-engines 
take  their  place. 

Many  sensible  people  complain  that  our  age  has  not  an 
architectiu'e  of  its  own.  We  have  heard  such  complaints  from 
very  distinguished  persons. 

But  how  can  our  agre  have  an  architectui'e  in  France  when 
the  State  keeps  up  and  protects  a  body  whose  instrument  it  has 
gradually  become,  which  maintains,  in  defiance  of  and  agamst  all 
comers,  those  pai-ticular  forms  of  art  which  suit  its  purpose — a 
body  which,  in  spite  of  all  endeavours  to  the  contrary,  is  the 
supreme  director  of  instruction,  and  insists  on  limiting  it  within 
the  nan-ow  field  which  it  cultivates  and  from  which  it  derives  a 
considerable  profit  ?  In  the  precarious  position  occupied  by 
architects,  how  is  it  possible  that  new  ideas  should  be  developed  ? 
They  can  barely  secure  recog-nition  on  paper ;  how  should  they 
succeed  in  getting  translated  into  stone  ? 

It  is  for  the  development  of  tlie  artist's  mdependence,  and 
securing  him  that  independence,  that  we  should  strive,  if  we 
would  have  an  art  special  to  oiu-  age.  It  is  not  sufficient  that 
discussion  should  be  free ;  it  is  necessary  that  all  the  methods 
suggested  by  such  discussion,  as  far  as  they  are  compatible  v.-ith. 
pubhc   safety,    shoidd  be   capable   of  bemg   followed   without 


168  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

embarrassment  to  those  who  pm-siie  them,  or,  worse  still,  their 
entire  failure  to  secure  a  position. 

There  was  a  time  when  every  one  was  obliged  to  dress 
according  to  certain  regulations  or  edicts,  and  when  it  was  not 
permitted  to  a  burgess  to  wear  a  cloak  such  as  covered  the 
shoidders  of  a  baron.  There  was  a  tune  when  the  burgess  was 
not  allowed  to  build  a  house  resembling  that  of  the  noble.  Now- 
a-days  every  one  cb-esses  and  houses  liimself  according  to  his 
good  pleasm-e — every  one  selects  his  tailor  or  liis  architect 
where  he  hkes.  Why  then  should  the  State  continue  to  encour- 
age and  sustam  a  monopoly  which  has  the  effect  of  circumscrib- 
ing a  useful  art,  such  as  arcliitecture,  witliin  the  limits  pre- 
scribed by  a  corporate  body  ?  What  advantage  can  it  derive 
from  this  state  of  things  ?  It  Ls  the  first  to  complain  of  those 
enormous  expenses  which  the  most  devoted  associates  of  that 
corporate  body  impose  upon  it. 

Now-a-days  the  State  cannot  and  ought  not  to  be  otherwise 
than  indifferent  as  to  dogmas  ;  it  has  everything  to  lose  and 
notliing  to  gaiii  m  supporting  one  at  the  expense  of  the  other. 
In  this,  as  in  many  other  tilings,  the  State  is  only  the  epitome  of 
the  various  opuiions  that  are  held,  and  its  duty  is  simply  that  of 
protecting  all  in  such  a  way  that  the  new  may,  if  necessary,  take 
the  place  of  the  old.  And  while  the  State  complains  of  the  great 
expenses  entailed  upon  it  by  the  architects  whom  it  prefers  to 
call  in,  and  justly,  because  they  have  been  pupils  of  the  school 
it  maintains,  the  puliUc  are  not  always  satisfied  with  the  style 
wliich  these  architects  seem  to  favoiu- ;  and  the  censure  wliich, 
wrongly  or  rightly,  is  applied  to  the  buildings  erected  for 
them,  falls  back  on  the  administration  itself.  So  that  no  one 
is  satisfied  unless  it  be  the  Academy  of  Architecture  ;  and 
the  State  can  neither  get  rid  of  its  responsibility,  nor  reply 
to  the  pubHc  that  the  blame  ought  to  be  laid  on  the  artists 
who  are  its  own  creatures.  If  a  play  is  hissed  at  the  theatre, 
no  one  finds  fault  with  the  government,  but  if  the  State 
maintained  a  school  of  di-amatic  authors,  and  if  from  that 
school  there  issued  lam-eates  pensioned  by  it,  the  case  would 
be  difierent ;  in  hissing  the  piece  disapproved  of,  the  State 
would  be  censiu'ed. 

Let  the  State  cease  to  trouble  itself  about  the  teacliing  of 
Architectm-e,  and  there  will  arise  a  soimd  system  of  teaching 
adapted  to  our  age  and  its  requirements. 

Let  the  State  sever  itself  from  the  Academie  des  Beaux  Arts 
and  we  shaU  have  an  Arcliitecture  of  this  Nineteenth  Century 
in  France,  as  there  was  in  Athens,  in  Rome,  in  Byzantium,  in 
Florence,  m  Venice,  and  among  om-selves  fi'om  the  twelfth  to  the 
sixteenth  cent  my  before  the  Academie  des  Beaux  Arts,  or  its 


LECTURE  XIV.  169 

architectviral  section,  was  invented.  But,  I  repeat  once  more, 
the  chief  object  aimed  at  is  not  consiUting  history  and  profiting 
by  its  teacliuigs ;  it  is  not  art,  or  the  few  who  would  wish  to 
pi'actise  and  teach  it  freely,  that  are  considered ;  it  is  the  con- 
servation of  a  fraternity  that  has  succeeded  in  attaching  itself  to 
the  State,  Uke  the  moss  to  the  rock,  to  such  a  degree  as  to 
conceal  its  real  nature  and  quality. 


LECTURE   XV. 

GENERAL  OBSERVATIONS  ON  THE  EXTERNAL  AND  INTERNAL 
ORNAMENTATION  OF  BUILDINGS. 


DOES  an  arcliitectural  conception  comprehend  its  ornamenta- 
tion, or  is  the  ornamentation  an  after  design  of  the 
architect  ?  In  other  words,  is  the  ornamentation  an  integral 
part  of  the  editlce,  or  is  it  only  a  clothing  more  or  less  rich 
with  which  the  edifice  is  covered  when  its  shape  has  been 
determined  ?  Among  the  various  civilisations  which  have  had 
a  characteristic  architecture,  these  questions  have  jirobably  never 
been  consciously  proposed ;  but  they  proceeded  as  if  these 
questions  had  been  mooted,  wliich,  as  far  as  our  purpose  is  con- 
cerned, comes  to  the  same  thmg. 

The  oldest  known  arcliitecture  whose  history  affords  us  any 
reliable  data  is  the  Egyptian  ;  and  this  architecture  derived  its 
ornamentation,  in  the  first  instance,  from  prunitive  methods  of 
construction  which  are  not  those  we  find  employed  in  the  oldest 
monuments  extant.  Thus  we  cannot  doubt  that  the  earliest 
Egyptian  edifices  were  built  with  materials  supphed  by  the 
vegetable  kmgdom  (wood  and  reeds)  :  yet  there  no  longer  exist 
any  but  stone  buildings  on  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  and  the 
ornamentation  of  these  stone  buildings  is  in  gi'eat  part  proper  to 
timber  structures.  At  what  distant  period  did  the  transforma- 
tion of  that  structure  take  place  ?  We  do  not  know  ;  at  least 
we  have  not  yet  discovered  it.  But  dates  are  here  of  secondary 
importance  ;  as  in  the  geological  transformations  of  the  crust  of 
the  earth,  the  succession  of  the  strata  is  demonstrated,  though 
we  cannot  ascertain  how  many  centiu'ies  it  took  to  effect  the 
changes  in  question. 

We  can  have  no  doubt  that  at  the  tmie  when  the  most 
ancient  Egyptian  buildings  whose  remains  stUl  exist  were 
erected,  the  tradition  of  those  pricnitive  wooden  biuldings  was 
not  obliterated,  since  we  find  them  portrayed  in  sculptures  and 
paintings.  But  those  structures  of  vegetable  material  were  not 
timber  buildings  such   as  are  erected   by  the  Northern  races. 


LECTURE  XV.  171 

Timber  of  considerable  length  and  hardness  must  always  have 
been  wanting  in  Egypt  itself,  and  the  hills  that  border  the  Nile 
were  never  wooded.  We  readily  perceive  that  the  system  of 
constiaiction  adopted  by  the  primitive  architects  was  that  of 
reed-work,  frame  and  pannel-work — such  as  belongs  rather  to 
joinery  than  timber-work — and  pise,  that  is,  mud  diied  in  the 
sun. 

Whether  Egypt  was  occupied  by  aborigines  who  hollowed 
out  their  dwelUngs  in  the  calcareous  rocks  in  the  neighboin-hood 
of  the  river,  or  whether  the  hyi^ogsea  of  Nubia  apj^eared  to  the 
conquering  races  good  models  to  follow  in  a  burnmg  climate,  the 
prmiitive  buildmgs  of  reeds  and  shght  timber  would  certainly 
seem  to  have  had  an  ulterior  core  of  earth  in  their  walls  and 
ceilings  ;  that  is,  they  were  so  constructed  as  to  fonn  artificial 
ciypts  ;  supports  and  casmg  of  wood,  with  filling  in  and  top 
covei'ing  of  puddled  clay.  In  Assyria,  again,  the  traditions  of 
this  kind  of  consti'uction  are  found  in  buUdings  of  recent  period 
as  compared  with  the  most  ancient  Egyptian  remams.  But  we 
shall  revert  to  tliis  subject. 

As  Egypt  possessed  only  reeds  and  light  wood  suitable  for 
joineiy,  such  as  sycamore,  fig,  and  a  few  resinous  trees,  but  which 
are  unfit  for  tunber  framing,  when  (for  instance)  a  straight,  stift", 
and  rather  long  support — what  we  call  a  prop — was  wanted,  the 
only  means  of  obtaining  it  was  by  forming  bundles  of  these  reeds 
with  fillets,  and  setting  them  upright  on  a  socle  ;  since  strong 
timber  was  not  to  be  had,  these  bundles  of  reeds  were  necessai-dy 
placed  rather  near  together  to  receive  lintels  of  short  lengi:h, 
or  even  other  reeds  put  across— a  kind  of  watlmg  that  was 
filled  in  with  puddled  clay.  Ceilings  were  formed  in  the  same 
manner.  As  to  the  walls — the  upright  enclosures — nothing 
prevented  then-  being  built  of  unburnt  bricks.  Hence,  when 
later  on,  stone  buildings  take  the  place  of  these  structures  of 
reeds  and  mud,  the  ornamentation  of  the  columns  and  lintels 
borrows  its  forms  from  the  vegetable  kingdom,  while  the  walls 
remain  even  or  are  covered  with  paintings  and  sunk  carvings. 
These  sunk  carvings,  which  belong  especially  to  Egy|:it,  are  an 
evidence  of  the  means  of  construction  primitively  employed.  In 
fact  when  we  build  a  wall  of  earth — of  pise — a  strong  cofier  of 
wood  is  necessary  for  ramming  in  the  earth  ;  and  thereby  tAvo 
even  surfaces  are  obtained  -v^-hich  can  easily  be  rendered  perfectly 
smooth  when  the  work  is  dry.  But  if  we  wish  to  decorate  these 
surfaces  with  delicate  carving  or  hieroglyphics,  it  is  not  possible 
to  plant  such  car\angs  on  the  smoothed  wall,  or  to  leave  them 
standing  out  by  depressmg  the  surface  around  them  ;  it  is 
natural,  on  the  contrary,  to  trace  these  figures  on  the  smooth 
surface,  and  to  produce  the  design  by  sinking  their  outline.     It 


172  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

is  none  tlie  less  strange  that  an  architectviral  ornamentation  should 
be  continued  when  the  method  of  building  which  suggested  it 
has  been  replaced  by  others.  This  can  only  be  explained  by  the 
influence  of  tradition.  We  observe  the  same  phenomenon  in 
the  Hindoo  buildings,  and  in  those  of  Asia  Minor,  attributed  to 
the  lonians.  Forms  have  been  hallowed,  as  it  were,  by  a  primitive 
method  of  structure  :  when  the  method  was  changed,  it  was  not 
considered  necessary  or  advisable  to  change  the  form.  In  some 
of  those  Ionian  monuments  hewn  m  the  rock  are  seen  imitations 
of  round  logs,  which  had  originally  served  for  supports,  shelters, 
and  enclosures.  Remarkable  as  were  the  arts  of  Asia, — and 
we  class  those  of  Egypt  with  them, — the  spirit  of  criticism  and 
logical  method  is  wanting.  It  was  the  Oriental  Greeks  who,  in 
architecture,  as  in  all  the  expressions  of  art,  were  the  fu\st  to 
proceed  on  a  basis  of  reasoning  and  critical  investigation.  It 
was  they  who  first  made  tradition  subordinate  to  the  intellectual 
power  which  seeks  to  give  every  human  creation  its  appropriate 
expression  in  hai-mony  with  the  purpose  and  the  material  means 
employed.  Why  is  it  that  the  thorough  good  sense  of  Greek 
art  is  not  now  perceived  even  by  those  who  affect  to  draw  their 
insj^iration  from  it?  We  have  here  one  of  those  inconsistencies 
wliich  would  appear  laughable  if  the  consequences  were  less 
serious  ;  an  inconsistency  which  I  shall  not  endeavour  to  explain, 
and  wliich  certainly  will  never  be  explained  by  those  among  us 
who  have  arrogated  to  themselves  the  sole  right  of  understand- 
ing that  art,  since  they  never  deign  to  enlighten  the  public  as 
to  the  reasons  that  guide  them.  It  is  nevertheless  true  that 
a  very  distinct  line  of  demarcation  may  be  drawn  between 
ancient  Asiatic  art  and  Greek  art.  The  former  proceeds  only 
in  an  uninterrupted  course  of  tradition,  each  generation  repro- 
ducing the  forms  adopted  by  preceding  ages.  When  necessity 
dictates  a  change  in  the  method  of  construction,  or  in  the 
materials,  the  immutable  form  is  not  thereby  affected,  but  is 
perpetuated  in  spite  of  the  novel  conditions ;  so  that  the 
architecture  of  a  country  which  does  not  possess  building  timber, 
continues  to  reproduce  with  stone  or  bricks  the  forms  which 
previous  generations  dwelling  in  forests  had  adopted.  Greek 
art,  on  the  contrary,  like  Greek  philosophy,  proceeds  by  the 
method  of  investigation  and  criticism.  Thus  Greek  genius  is  the 
pioneer  in  progress ;  and  though  it  may  have  halting-places,  it 
does  not  fix  limits.  Facile,  intelligent,  attached  to  the  form, 
but  still  more  to  the  spuit,  it  rejects  hieratic  conventionalism  in 
art  as  it  ojjposes  theocracy  and  fixed  dogma  in  religion  and 
philosophy.  Who  can  tell  what  the  development  of  Christianity 
woidd  have  been  if  it  had  not  come  in  contact  with  Greek  genius, 
which  gave  it  life  and  expansive  force ;  not  at  once  confining  it 


■  LECTURE  XV.  173 

within  the  limits  of  an  immutable  hieratic  dogmatism,  but  by 
discussmg  it  and  causing;  it  to  undei'fro  transformations  as  raiiid 
as  they  are  profound.  It  needed  all  the  uniting  and  centrahsing 
spirit  of  the  Empire,  and  the  barbarian  invasion  of  Islam,  to 
arrest  the  diverging  and  probably  fruitful  development  of  which 
the  new  religion  gave  promise.  If  there  had  been  no  interference 
on  the  part  of  the  Imperial  power,  and  Mohammedanism  had 
extended  its  conquests  in  the  direction  of  India,  instead  of  over- 
spreading Egypt  and  Asia  Minor,  the  School  of  Alexandria 
would  have  been  a  focus  of  illumination  for  the  West,  and  would 
have  advanced  civilisation  by  ten  centuries.  Perhaps  in  that 
case  we  might  not  have  suffered  the  protracted  intellectvial 
oppression  which  weighed  so  long  and  so  heavily  upon  Europe 
during  the  Middle  Ages,  and  the  deplorable  results  of  which  are 
.stUl  affecting  us.  It  is  owing  to  the  long-continued  persistence 
of  intellectual  tyranny  under  which  the  West  has  been  suffering 
since  the  fifth  century,  that  the  essential  spuit  of  the  Greek 
genius  is  lost  sight  of  We  appreciate  its  brilliancy;  but  in 
most  cases  we  are  incapable  of  using  its  clear  light  to  guide  us, 
and,  like  persons  who  having  lived  long  in  a  dark  cell  are  unable 
to  bear  the  sun's  rays,  when  we  take  any  work  in  hand  we  are 
obliged  to  seek  the  shade. 

We  architects,  clingmg  to  certain  spurious  traditions  which 
have  never  had  the  force  of  dogmatic  behef ;  subject  to  caprices 
the  least  explicable  ;  reproducing  forms  that  are  meaningless, 
and  which,  even  when  they  fu-st  appeared,  were  produced  without 
reasoning  or  serious  consideration  ;  stammering  out  a  corrupted 
dialect,  we  talk  of  the  Greeks  !  we  go  to  study  architecture  in 
Greece  !  but  for  what  purpose,  unless  it  be  to  imbue  ourselves 
with  their  daring  spirit,  their  accuracy  in  reasoning  and  judicious 
use  of  knowledge  ? 

Greek  genius  is  not  found,  in  architecture  more  than  in  any- 
thing else,  in  one  corner  of  Europe  only.  It  is  not  confined  to 
the  shape  of  a  capital  or  the  profile  of  a  cornice.  Greek  genius 
is  human  genius  pm^  excellence ;  consequently  it  lives  still  and 
will  five  for  ever.  Any  one  of  us  may  find  a  spark  of  it,  if  he 
chooses,  ur  himself;  and  the  builders  who  raised  some  of  our 
Western  Mediseval  edifices  were  more  thoroiighly  imbued  with 
the  principles  constituting  the  essence  of  Greek  genius  than  the 
frigid  copyists  of  Greek  fonns  can  Ije. 

Various  principles  have  been  adopted  in  the  ornamentation 
of  buddinofs.  The  fii'st,  or  oldest — that  Avhich  most  naturally 
occurs  to  the  mind  of  the  decorator — consists  m  derivnig  the 
ornamentation  from  the  objects  and  materials  employed  m 
building. 

The  dweller  m  the  forests  erects  his  buildings  with  the  trees 


174  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

he  has  felled  ;  and  the  combination  of  the  timbers,  and  the  leaves 
with  which  he  covers  them,  afibrd  the  earhest  and  most  natural 
ornamentation.  Accustomed  to  the  forms  thus  suggested,  when 
later  on  he  migrates  to  countries  that  are  not  wooded,  we  may- 
be sure  that  he  will  give  the  new  materials  he  employs  forms 
which  are  derived  from  timber-woi'k.  We  need  no  further 
proof  of  this  than  that  which  has  been  furnished  by  the  examina- 
tion of  the  ancient  remains  of  a  great  portion  of  Asia.^  The 
second  principle  of  ornamentation  is  the  result  of  a  more  perfect 
state  of  civilisation  :  it  consists  in  giving  to  the  several  members 
of  the  building  forms  not  dictated  by  an  unreflecting  adherence 
to  tradition,  but,  on  the  contrary,  by  thoughtful  consideration  ; — 
features  deduced  from  the  natui'e  of  the  materials  employed,  the 
requu-ements  to  be  satisfied,  and  the  exigencies  of  the  climate. 
The  first  method  of  decoration  only  was  followed  hi  ancient 
times  by  most  of  the  Asiatic  nations,  with  which  we  class 
Egypt.  The  Greeks  were  probably  the  first  to  adopt  the  second 
method.  The  first  is  not  in  conformity  with  logical  deduction  ; 
the  second  is  thoroughly  rational. 

For  example,  it  is  evidently  quite  illogical  to  give  a  column, 
a  monostyle  of  stone,  the  form  of  a  bundle  of  reeds.  This  is 
nevertheless  what  the  Egyptians  did  from  an  early  period. 
Imitating  in  stone,  fig.  1,  bundles  of  reeds,  which  are  moreover 
rej^resented  in  painting  or  graving  in  their  actual  shape  on 
the  buildings  themselves,^  they  perpetuated  this  kind  of  orna- 
mentation in  their  architecture  for  many  centuries.  Thus  they 
hewed  sarcophagi  of  granite  or  basalt,  giving  their  sides  the 
appearance  of  a  piece  of  carpentry.  This  mode  of  ornamenta- 
tion is  explicable  among  a  peojale  who  seek  to  preserve  certain 
traditional  forms  hallowed  by  religious  associations  and  main- 
tained by  a  powerful  theocracy  ;  but  it  has  been  hiadmissible  in 
our  Western  civilisation  ever  since  the  supervention  of  Greek 
genius.  And  in  fact,  while  the  lonians  of  Asia  believed  they 
ought  to  continue  tliis  transmission  of  forms,  the  Dorians  did  not 
proceed  in  the  same  manner.  Even  their  earliest  buildings  dis- 
play forms  that  are  appropriate  to  the  nature  of  the  material 
employed.  I  am  well  aware  that  there  is  a  strong  inclination  to 
regard  the  Doric  temple  (for  instance)  as  an  inutation  in  stone 
of  a  wooden  structure  ;  but  this  we  may  regard  as  one  of  those 

1  See  Lecture  II. 

2  Our  figure  1  represents  at  A  graven  pictures  dating  from  the  fourth  dynasty.  The 
bundle  of  reede  is  there  figured  in  its  nearly  actual  form.  It  ia  the  delineation  of  the 
primitive  arrangement  of  the  column.  At  B  is  the  stone  column  (eighteenth  dynasty),  hut 
which  exactly  reproduces  all  the  characteristics  of  the  bundle  of  reeds.  The  ornamenta- 
tion of  this  column  and  its  capital  is  merely  a  rendering  of  the  jirimitive  work  composed 
of  vegetable  growths.  The  plan  C  shows  at  a,  the  sections  of  the  column  at  its  base ;  at  h,  at 
the  height  of  the  binding  ;  at  c,  at  the  height  of  the  swelling  of  the  capital ;  at  (/,  at  the 
height  of  the  Dimmit  of  the  capital  (see  VHiatuire  de  I'Art  E<jijx>tieH,  by  M.  Prisse  d'Avenne). 


LECTURE  XV. 


175 


Fia.  1.— Origiu  of  the  form  of  the  Eg5^4ian  Column. 


17G  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

hypotheses  that  are  more  ingenious  than  correct ;  "we  believe  we 
have  demonstrated  this  in  the  second  lecture/  and  shall  not 
revert  to  the  subject ;  especially  as  all  that  can  be  ui-ged  will 
not  prevent  the  repetition  of  the  assertion  for  a  long  time  to 
come,  that  the  Doric  Greek  temple  derives  its  origin  from  the 
primitive  wood  hut.  What,  however,  cannot  be  disputed  is,  that 
the  shape  of  the  capital  and  the  mouldings  of  the  cornice  have 
no  analogy  whatever  with  shapes  derived  from  the  fashioning  of 
wood.  The  primitive  Egy|3tian  capital  is  evidently  an  imitation 
of  the  lotus-flower,  or  of  a  cluster  of  lotus  buds  ;  but  the  Greek 
Doric  capital  is  not  an  imitation  of  any  vegetable  form  ;  and  it 
would  be  very  difficult  to  find  such  a  shape  in  a  piece  of  wood- 
work. Its  graceful  outline  displays  the  foi'm  that  rightly 
belongs  to  a  stone  support.  This  is  evident  to  the  least  experi- 
enced. In  the  triglyphs  again,  we  are  asked  to  see  the  ends  of 
beams  :  but  besides  the  fact  that  the  ends  of  beams  could  not 
show  on  the  four  sides  of  a  building,  how  can  we  accoimt  for  the 
wood  being  fluted  at  the  ends  ?  It  is  easy  to  flute  wood  in  the 
direction  of  its  grain,  but  across  the  grain  this  would  not  be  an 
easy  or  rational  process.  We  see  in  the  triglj^^hs  ujjrights  of 
stone  between  which  are  placed  the  metopes,  these  being  merely 
a  filling  in.  This  seems  much  more  in  accordance  with  common 
sense  :  and  since  the  Greeks  fluted  theii-  columns  to  express 
distinctly  their  function  as  vertical  supports,  it  was  natural  to 
flute  the  uprights  of  the  architrave,  whose  function  is  similar. 
Here  wood  has  nothing  to  do  Avith  the  origin  of  the  forms  given 
to  the  triglyphs.  But  we  will  not  further  discuss  these  some- 
what commonplace  ti-iAaalities. 

In  the  buildings  erected  by  the  Dorian  Greeks,  painting  was 
always  employed  as  a  means  of  ornamentation,  internal  and 
external.  In  the  best  period  of  Classic  Art,  the  Greeks  did  not 
use  coloured  marbles  in  their  large  buildings.  They  built  them 
of  stone  or  white  marble,  coating  the  monochrome  stone  with  a 
fine  stucco  and  colouring  it ;  when  they  used  marble  they 
selected  white,  and  coloured  its  entire  surface.  Colour,  there- 
fore, was  one  of  the  most  eftective  means  of  ornamentation  ;  it 
served  to  distinguish  the  architectural  members,  and  to  give 
the  several  planes  of  the  structure  their  due  relief.  But, — and 
in  this  particular  the  dehcacy  of  Greek  genius  is  manifest, — as 
it  is  necessary,  especially  in.  such  a  climate  as  theirs,  to  consider 
the  efiect  of  the  sun's  light,  the  Greek  artists  felt  that  in  a 
buildmg  whose  dimensions  were  never  very  considerable,  greater 
relative  impoi'tance  should  be  given  either  to  the  vertical  or  to 
the  horizontal  Imes  :  all  their  mouldings  therefore  are  made  in 
the  horizontal  members  ;  here  they  are  strongly  marked  ;  they 

'  See  Vol.  i.  p.  35,  and  following. 


LECTURE  XV.  177 

are  even  deeply  sunk,  in  order  to  obtain  sliarp  shades  like  strong 
ink-lines  in  a  drawing  ;  ■while  the  vertical  members  are  left  bare, 
or  only  very  slightly  moulded.  The  shafts  of  the  columns  are 
but  faintly  streaked  with  shallow  flutings,  whose  only  effect  is 
to  render  their  cylindro-conical  surface  more  distinctly  apparent. 
If  we  examine  a  Doric  Gz'eek  temple  of  the  best  period,  we  shaU 
not  find  a  single  vertical  moulding  ;  all  the  mouldings  are  hori- 
zontal and  very  sharply  cut.  The  result  of  this  system  was 
that  the  surfaces  were  distinguished  by  difierent  shades,  and 
that  in  the  general  effect  the  building  was  banded  with  strongly 
mai'ked  horizontal  shadows,  quieting  to  the  eye,  and  clearly 
separating  the  various  tones  of  colour.  In  these  temples  there 
is  very  httle  sculpture  ;  it  only  appears  in  the  metopes  and  the 
tympanums  of  the  pediments  ;  moreover,  it  is  not  ornamental 
sculpture,  but  represents  independent  subjects.  For  the  most 
part  the  ornamentation,  properly  so  called,  consists  of  painting. 
Sometimes  the  hoi-izontal  mouldings  are  finely  beaded  in  the 
most  careful  and  eftective  manner. 

It  was  only  about  the  time  of  Pericles,  in  Attica,  that 
sculptured  ornamentation  became  a  feature  in  buildings  ;  and  then 
it  is  flat,  thin,  and  dehcate,  and  appears  as  if  it  were  intended 
to  thi'ow  the  painting  into  relief.  It  may  therefore  be  asserted 
that,  as  a  general  rule,  the  ornamentation  of  the  best  Greek 
architecture  consisted  entirely  of  horizontal  mouldings,  very 
skilfully  designed,  with  due  regard  to  the  effects  of  light  and 
shade,  and  tones  of  colour,  whose  harmonious  aiTangement  we 
shall  have  occasion  to  consider  later  on. 

If  the  Greeks  did  not  always  presei've  that  admirable  sobriety 
which  nevertheless  produces  such  a  striking  effect,  they  were  at 
any  rate  never  betrayed  iiito  those  eccentricities  into  which  theu- 
would-be  imitators  allowed  themselves  to  be  led.  And  even 
when  the  Roman  Empu-e  came  to  be  estabhshed  among  them, 
they  stUl  had  the  ability  to  devise  for  the  imperial  architecture 
a  style  of  ornamentation  appropriate  to  the  systems  of  construction 
then  employed  ;  for  if  there  is  an  architecture  in  which  the 
decorative  method  is  out  of  hannony  ■\\dth  the  structure,  it  is 
certainly  that  of  the  Empire  ;  and  despite  its  intrinsic  worth, 
which  is  sometunes  incontestable,  this  decorative  method  has 
the  defect  of  falsifying  a  structure  which  is  nevex'theless 
sufficiently  beautiful  and  rational  to  render  it  an  excellent  theme. 
The  ornamentation  adopted  in  the  buildings  of  the  Ciesiu-ean 
period — when  those  builduigs  are  really  Eoman,  and  are  not  an 
imitation  of  the  arcliitecture  of  the  Greeks, — has  the  gi'eat 
fault  of  dwarfing  the  building,  whose  real  gi-andeur  only  becomes 
apparent  when  its  di'ess  has  been  removed. 

Among  the  Greeks  all  ornamentation,  so  far  from  falsifying, 
YOU  n.  M 


178  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

emphasizes  the  structure  ;  moreover,  it  is  always  proportioned  to 
the  size  of  the  building  ;  it  never  breaks  up  the  parts  which 
should  preserve  an  appearance  of  solidity  ;  and  it  is  effective  in 
pro])ortion  to  its  sobriety  and  moderation.  In  the  Iloman 
buildings  ornamentation  is  lavished  without  sufficient  judgment, 
and  aims  rather  at  richness  of  efiect  than  fitness  and  clearness. 
While  the  Greeks  of  the  CLissic  period  made  only  a  very 
moderate  use  of  sculptured  ornamentation,  and  confined  their 
statuary  to  specially  determined  places,  they  covered  the  sur- 
faces of  their  buildings  with  a  colouring  which,  when  required, 
gave  relief,  to  the  supports,  while  it  subordinated  the  pax'ts  that 
did  not  support  but  served  only  as  enclosures.  The  Romans  of 
the  Empu-e,  on  the  contrary,  made  it  then-  chief  object  to  employ 
if  possible,  all  together,  every  decorative  appliance, — gi-anite, 
jasper,  porphyry,  marble,  painted  stucco,  bronze,  and  mosaic  ; 
they  used  aU  these  with  more  profusion  than  discernment. 
With  them,  to  charm  meant  to  dazzle,  to  astonish  ;  and  they 
appreciated  but  slightly  the  refinements  of  Greek  genius. 
Besides,  it  was  a  matter  of  no  concern  to  them  whether  the 
ornamentation  suited  the  material  made  use  of  or  not ;  or 
whether  that  ornamentation  belonged  to  the  first  or  second  of 
those  two  modes  between  which  we  have  established  a  marked 
distinction,  or  borrowed  at  the  same  time  fi'om  both.  Every 
kind  of  decoration  pleased  them,  j^rovided  it  was  rich. 

But  before  tracing  the  consequences  of  Greek  rationalism 
and  Boman  eclecticism  in  decoration,  we  must  briefly  consider 
the  singular  phase  of  art  displayed  by  the  civilisation  of  the 
Medes  or  Assyrians,  and  which  incontestably  exerted  an  influ- 
ence over  the  art  of  Greece,  and  a  much  more  powerful  one  than 
that  attributed  to  Egypt. 

Mesopotamia  furnishes  through  its  whole  extent  a  plastic 
earth  admirably  adapted  for  making  bricks  ;  it  possesses  very 
productive  bituminous  springs ;  and  on  some  of  its  ridges  lime- 
stone, gypsvuB  and  even  soft  marbles.  In  that  simny  clime  it 
was  possible  to  make  with  the  mud  of  the  Euphrates  large  quan- 
tities of  bricks,  which  could  be  dried  in  the  open  air.  With  these 
materials  therefore,  thus  easily  obtained,  the  main  body  of  their 
buildings  was  erected  on  a  basement  of  stone.  The  walls  were 
faced  with  fire-baked  bricks,  often  enamelled  or  plastered ;  on 
these  walls  were  constructed  either  vaults,  likewise  of  dried  earth 
and  covered  by  terraces,  or  ceilings  consisting  of  beams  of 
resinous  wood,  with  soffits  of  brick,  terraced  and  plastered. 
Sometimes  bitumen  served  to  unite  these  vmburnt  bricks,  and 
would  naturally  aid  in  the  formation  of  terrace -roofs.  Except- 
ing for  basements,  stone  was  only  employed  for  doorways  or 
for  interior  linings,  and  was  then   covered  with  carvings  and 


LECTURE  XV.  179 

inscriptions.  The  purport  of  these  inscriptions  is  invariably  a 
minute  narration  of  tlie  martial  achievements  of  the  person  wlio 
had  caused  the  erection  of  the  Inillding. 

For  several  centuries  the  Assyrian  kings  did  little  else  than 
]ilunder  their  neighbours.  From  the  conquered  countries  were 
i-arried  away  not  only  the  flocks,  herds,  and  treasures,  but,  as 
we  learn  from  the  inscription  of  Sardanapalus  iii.,'  iron,  bronze, 
timber,  wrought  or  unwrought, — everything,  in  fact;  and  in  addi- 
tion, whole  pttpulations,  which  were  to  augment  in  Mesopotamia 
the  number  of  slave  workmen  who  were  employed  in  making  and 
bringing  together  those  enormous  masses  of  bricks,  in  quarrying 
gigantic  blocks  of  stone,  and  transporting  them  by  main  Ibrce 
to  the  royal  buildings.  This  barbarous  policy  was  moreover 
coincident  with  a  refined  state  of  civilisation.  The  Assyrians 
thus  absorbed  all  the  vitality  and  vigour  of  the  neighbouring 
countries,  and  the  jjrodigious  splendour  of  their  empire  stood 
forth  amid  an  environment  of  ruins  and  desert.  When  the 
Ninevite  power,  in  its  turn,  crumbled  beneath  a  Median  invasion 
and  the  efibrts  of  remnants  of  long-oppressed  nations,  there  no 
longer  remained  anything  of  its  glory  but  the  piles  of  bricks 
that  are  still  to  l)e  seen  on  the  banks  of  the  Euphrates  and  Tigris. 
Nowhere  on  the  surface  of  the  globe  could  there  be  instanced 
such  an  abuse  of  monarchical  power,  and  nowhere  so  complete 
a  f  Jl ;  such,  in  fact,  that  no  new  civilisation  has  since  then  been 
able  to  found  itself  on  that  soil,  exhausted  by  the  most  terrible 
despotism  ever  known. 

It  is  certain  that  the  mountains  which  form  the  Ijoiandary  of 
Mesopotamia  were  once  covered  with  fine  forests ;  for  in  the 
inscriptions  collected  mention  is  often  made  of  kings  who  sent 
to  have  cedars  cut  m  considerable  quantity  for  the  building  of 
their  palaces.  These  mountains  are  now  bare  of  timber ;  and 
everything  leads  to  the  belief  that  they  have  been  so  ever  since 
the  Assyrian  devastations.  The  Assyrian  monarchs  concerned 
themselves  but  little  with  the  reproduction  of  the  vegetable 
wealth  they  were  consuming ;  they  took  everything, — men, 
things,  animals,  and  forests  ;  thinking  that  lands  would  never  be 
wanting  to  their  successors  for  a  continuance  of  their  reckless 
spoliations.  It  might  be  siqtposed  that  in  point  of  art  a  civil- 
isation thus  constituted  w^ould  erect  buildings  correspondingly 
exceptional  in  kind,  extent,  and  character.  Nothing,  however, 
in  the  i-emains  of  these  buildings  leads  one  to  suppose  a  condition 
bordering  on  barbarism ;  on  the  contrary,  they  manifest  all  the 
refinements  of  an  extremely  advanced  material  civilisation.  In 
the  general  arrangements  everything  is  co-ordinated,  designed, 

'  See  Exp^dit.   scimt.   en  MHopotamie  cxrrutee  pnr  ordre  du  fioiivcriumcnt    1S51-1S54, 
by  MM.  Fresnel,  Felix  Thomas,  and  Jules  Oppert,  1853. 


180  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

preconsidered,  and  executed  with  that  sequence  and  regularity 
of  working  which  is  the  mark  of  an  administrative  organisation 
as  complete  as  it  is  powerfid.  The  water-courses  were  regulated 
with  scrupulous  care ;  in  every  direction  are  found  traces  of 
dikes  raised  to  check  the  periodical  inundations  of  rivers,  and 
dams  designed  for  the  irrigation  of  the  plains ;  for  while  those 
fierce  Assyrian  monarchs  created  a  desert  around  their  empire, 
it  \Vas  their  pleasure  to  live  amid  pleasant  gardens  and  verdant 
fields.  The  people  whom  they  carried  away  from  the  neighbour- 
ing countries  into  bondage  were  employed  in  tasks  for  which  our 
modern  appliances  would  scarcely  sufiice.  Of  the  argillaceous 
earth  taken  from  the  numerous  canals  and  streams,  these  labourers 
fabricated  vast  acciunidations  of  sun-dried  or  fire-burnt  bricks, 
and  with  these  materials  were  raised  veritable  hills  or  plateaux, 
on  which  were  built  v;ist  and  lofty  palaces,  surrounded  l)y 
rampart  walls  flanked  with  embattled  towers.  These  plateaux 
the  were  perforated  by  conduits,  and  passages  for  leading  off 
water. 

In  accordance  with  an  Oriental  custom  which  still  prevails, 
these  palaces  were  more  like  towns  than  residences  arranged  in  a 
symmetrical  manner  ;  they  were  groups  of  buildings  designed  for 
the  uses  they  had  to  serve,  with  numerous  rooms  surrounding 
courts  or  cloisters.  Water  flowed  through  the  meadows  and 
gardens.  Terraces  of  puddled  clay,  plastered  with  cement  or 
bitumen,' covered  the  buildings  and  afforded  places  for  the  enjoy- 
ment of  the  cool  evening  an*  after  the  hot  days  of  those  regions. 
The  massive  walls,  built  of  sun-di'ied  bricks,  made  with  extreme 
care  and  united  together  by  a  thin  bed  of  wet  clay  or  of  bitumen, 
were  faced  externally  with  plaster  and  brightly-coloured  glazed 
bricks.  In  the  gates  colossal  sculjitured  figiu-es  of  winged  hons, 
or  bulls  with  human  heads,  Uke  those  in  the  British  Museum  and 
that  of  the  Louvre,  or  of  men  killing  lions,  formed  the  jambs,  and 
supported  semicu-cular  vaults  built  of  unburnt  bricks  with  arclii- 
volts  of  glazed  bricks.  At  the  palace  of  Khorsabad,  M.  Place 
has  found  existmg  one  of  those  gates  with  its  vaidt,  a  discovery 
which  has  caused  no  little  astonishment  to  archaeologists,  who 
insisted  that  vaulting  was  a  relatively  recent  invention,  scarcely 
dating  further  back  than  the  sixth  centiuy  before  our  era. 

Plate  XXVII.  represents  a  perspective  view  of  the  south-east 
gate  of  the  palace  of  Khorsabad,  restored  according  to  data 
supplied  by  the  discoveries  of  M.  Place,  and  the  meritorious 
graphical  labours  of  E.  Thomas.  The  basement  of  the  portal, 
consisting  of  winged  bulls  of  colossal  size,  is  of  marble,  and  each 
figure  is  a  monolith.  Above  rise  the  masses  of  sun-dried  brick- 
work forming  the  archway  and  the  two  towers.  The  whole 
building  was  covered  with  plastering,  most  probably  coloured,  if 


p 


< 


COCl^S     DAP^CIIITI-CTUHf-" 


4 


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■.M.AIS    i)\:    KHOK-SABAD 

Porlc  Sud  i-rsl  — 


Imf)  UlturttV  ipf/b^U 


LECTURE  XV.  181 

we  may  judge  by  some  analogous  portions  preserved,  and  the 
descriptions  of  Herodotus.  There  were  besides  friezes  and  an 
archivolt  of  bricks  enamelled  with  colours,  representing  orna- 
ments, human  figures,  hunting  scenes,  and  combats. 

It  is  worth  while  to  observe  the  ornamentation  on  the  out- 
side of  the  tower  walls, — an  ornamentation  employed  in  all  parts 
of  the  palace  of  Khorsabad,  and  consisting  of  a  series  of  portions 
of  cylinders  in  juxtaposition,  like  the  pipes  of  an  organ,  or,  more 
accurately,  like  tninks  of  trees  placed  vertically  close  together. 
This  style  of  decoration  is  a  last  reminiscence,  as  it  were,  of  the 
timber  stockading,  which  had  originally  served  to  keep  up  and 
preserve  the  tempered  earth  or  pise  before  the  regular  use  of 
sun-ckied  bricks.  It  must  be  remarked  that  with  this  exception 
of  the  tradition  of  a  system  of  structiu'e  which  had  ceased  to  be 
employed,  aU  the  ornamentation  is  perfectly  rational,  and  in 
accordance  with  the  mode  of  builduig.  It  consists,  in  fact,  in 
all  the  part  erected  of  brick,  merely  of  an  inlaying  or  veneering 
of  enamelled  bricks  set  flush  ■s\'ith  the  plastering.  Sculpture  is 
confined  to  the  parts  composed  of  calcareous  materials,  fonning 
the  basements  whose  aspect  is  so  striking  and  grand.  ^  And 
when  we  examine  the  character  of  tliis  sculpture,  we  cannot 
help  percei\Tng  how  much  the  early  Dorian  monuments  resemble 
it.^  In  the  Assyrian  architecture,  therefore,  conformalily  with 
the  testimony  of  Herodotus,  Xenophon,  Quintus  Curtius,  and 
Diodorus  Siculus,  painting  played  the  principal  part  in  the 
system  of  ornamentation,  since,  independently  of  the  overlaying 
of  enamelled  bricks,  the  plastermg  was  coloured  in  various  tones, 
among  which  blue,  yellow,  and  red  were  conspicuous.  We  can 
imagine  the  effect  produced  by  those  large  colotu'ed  vertical 
surfaces,  relieved  by  the  most  brdliant  enamels,  the  whole  rest- 
ing on  a  basement  of  finely  hewn  or  richly  sculptured  stone. 
Masts,  overlaid  with  gilt  bronze  and  terminated  with  large  round 
shields  or  with  palms,  likewise  gUt,  were  fastened  to  the  sides  of 
these  portals,  as  shoAvn  in  Plate  XXVII.^ 

The  East  is  that  part  of  the  globe  in  which  the  habits  of  the 
people  are  least  affected  by  change ;  accordingly  the  buildings 
erected  in  Persia  during  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries 
of  our  era  still  preserve  the  same  decorative  featm-es.  Externally 
large  and  even  vertical  sui*faces,  some  friezes  of  enamelled  tiles 
or  impressed  stucco  ;  flat  roofing,  from  which  rise  cupolas  ;  upper 
loggias,  for  fresh  air  and  coolness  ;  and  basements  relatively  rich 
and  wi'ought  m  hard  materials. 

*  See  the  work  of  JIM.  Place  and  Tliomaa,  Ninive  cl  I'Asfjrie. 

^  See  the  Selinuntian  metopes  in  the  ralermo  Museum. 

^  In  the  Assyrian  JIuseum  at  the  Louvre,  there  are  fragments  of  gilt  bronze  from  these 
I'latings,  besides  representations  of  them  on  the  numerous  bas-reliefs  in  which  buildings 
arc  portrayed. 


182  LECTURES  ON  ARClllTECTURE. 

Assuredly  the  Doi-i;iiis  did  not  copy  these  architectural 
features,  which  neither  suited  theu'  habits  nor  the  materials  tliey 
had  at  disposal ;  but  they  coloured  the  surfaces  of  theii'  buildings, 
and  began  by  imitating  tlie  chariicter  of  those  sculptures  which 
were  already  buried  beneath  ruins  when  Xenophon  traversed 
Mesopotamia ;  at  that  time,  however,  Greek  art  had  emancipated 
itself,  and  had  ceased  to  draw  its  mspiration  from  any  other 
source  than  its  own  genius. 

It  would  be  superfluous  to  give  examples  of  the  ornamenta- 
tion of  Doric  buildings  here,  since  it  Ls  so  well  known  and  has 
been  so  frequently  reproduced  and  commented  upon.  Even  in 
these  Lectures  the  ornamentation  of  Greek  architecture  has 
been  frequently  discussed, — an  ornamentation  which  is  invari- 
ably sober  in  chai-acter,  and  which  depends  more  on  painting 
than  sculpture.  Koman  ornamentation  under  the  Empu'e  is 
also  familiarly  known.  Lu.xurious  and  too  often  commonplace, 
its  chief  merit  consisted  m  the  profusion  of  costly  materials,  and 
the  accumulation  of  decorative  appliances  with  more  prodigality 
than  taste.  It  must  l)e  acknowledged,  however,  that  both  in  their 
exterior  and  interior  decoration  of  buikUngs  the  ai-tists  (generally 
Greeks)  exhibited  skill  in  giving  to  the  richness  of  the  materials 
employed,  and  to  the  style  of  the  scidptiu'e,  an  air  of  dignity 
that  shoidd  not  be  disregarded  at  a  time  hke  the  present,  when 
an  attempt  is  made  to  produce  analogous  effects. 

The  cliief  defect  in  the  tixchitectural  decoration  of  the  Empire 
is  the  want  of  rej)ose.  I  will  exjikiin  my  meaning  :  when,  as  in 
the  arcliitecture  of  the  classic  period  in  Greece,  ornamentation 
occupies  only  well-defined  positions ;  when  the  architectural 
members  are  so  carefidly  consideied,  proportioned,  and  shaped 
that  they  themselves  constitute  the  principal  decoration  ;  when, 
to  put  it  more  clearly,  the  structure  of  the  architectural 
features  constitutes  the  ornamentation ;  that  stiiicture  neces- 
sitates parts  presenting  greater  resistance,  parts  of  greater 
strength,  which  limit  the  sculptured  ornamentation  to  the  less 
strong  or  less  resisting  parts.  Thus,  in  the  Doric  temple,  it  is 
perfectly  evident  that  the  only  parts  fitted  to  receive  carving  or 
sculpture  are  the  metopes,  the  friezes,  and  the  tympanums  of 
the  gables.  Everywhere  else  it  is  tlie  actual  members  of  the 
structiu'e  which  assume  a  decorative  shape,  resulting  from  their 
faithfully  expressing  their  function.  But  if  we  replace  the 
Doric  cajjital,  wliicli  perfectly  indicates  its  function  of  support, 
by  the  Corinthian  capital — an  architectural  member  which,  to 
the  eye,  is  wanting  in  expression  as  a  support — which  seems  as 
if  it  must  be  crushed  beneath  the  weight  it  is  intended  to  caiTy, 
we  are  obhged  to  give  a  lighter  appearance  to  the  members 
supported  ;    we  must  richly  decorate  the  frieze,  and  even  tlie 


LECTURE  XV.  183 

architrave  and  the  cornice.  The  result  will  be  a  want  of  con- 
gi'uity  between  this  florid  upper  part  and  the  smooth  cohnnii 
shafts  ;  we  must  deeply  flute  the  latter  ;  and  the  shafts  them- 
selves must  rest  on  a  base  corresponding  with  the  richness  of  the 
capital.  But  we  cannot  stop  here ;  the  same  process  must  be 
extended  to  every  part  of  the  buildmg.  When  the  artist 
decorates  an  arcliitectural  member,  which  in  virtue  of  its  ftmction 
should  preserve  an  appearance  of  special  strength,  he  is  soon  led 
to  make  the  ornamentation  general  ;  particularly  in  tlie  case  of 
the  smooth  surfaces,  whose  function  as  supports  is  not  very 
manifest.  Hence  the  Greeks  were  slow  to  adopt  the  Corinthian 
capital,  and  at  fii-st  used  it  only  in  buildings  of  very  small  size, 
such,  e.g. ,  as  the  Choragic  monument  of  Lysicrates.  The  Ionian 
cajiital,  though  riclily  ornamented,  does  not  lose  its  expression 
as  a  support, — a  remark  applying  especiaUy  to  its  earher  forms. 
Its  wide  volutes  curve  round  beyond  the  diameter  of  the  column 
shaft,  which  is  carried  up  to  the  abacus  ;  they  do  not  con- 
ceal the  sujjport,  but  only  gracefully  terminate  it. 

A  Roman  hall,  without  supposing  variations  in  the  structure, 
might  be  ornamented,  externally  and  internally,  in  very  difterent 
ways  ;  and  in  fact,  given  one  of  those  edifices  completely  strijiped 
of  its  decoration,  ten  architects  might  imagine  ten  several  modes 
of  ornamenting  it.  This  would  not  be  the  case  with  a  Greek  build- 
ing, smce  its  ornamentation  is  determined  by  the  structure  itself 
In  this  the  variations  would  concern  only  details  of  minor  import- 
ance, or  the  style  of  painting  ;  and  even  f  jr  these  suborchnate 
parts,  there  are  laws  deduced  from  the  structure  famiUar  even 
to  architects  of  the  most  limited  attainments. 

Let  us  suppose  the  rotunda  of  the  Pantheon  at  Eome  entirely 
stripped  of  its  interior  orders,  its  marbles,  and  its  band  moiddings  ; 
that  no  trace  of  this  superadded  ornamentation  remains  ;  that 
even  the  knowledge  of  what  it  was  has  passed  away,  and  that 
several  architects  are  commissioned  to  re-decorate  the  bai'e 
interior.  It  is  evident  that  each  would  produce  a  diS'erent  design. 
Will 'it  occur  to  any  of  them  to  shut  oft'  those  great  recesses  with 
a  screen  of  columns  ?  Shall  there  be  two  or  three  orders 
superposed  in  the  height  of  the  circular  wall  ?  Or  shall  there 
be  only  one  order,  or  none  at  all  ?  There  is  in  fact  nothing  in  the 
stnicture  to  indicate  what  that  decoration  should  be,  which, 
though  only  an  overlaying,  is  nevertheless  of  extreme  unport- 
ance. 

Every  architect  possesses  illustrations  of  Roman  edifices, 
— edifices  built  according  to  the  veritable  Roman,  not  the  Greek 
method  ;  for  the  two  must  not  be  confounded.  I  will  ask  him, 
then,  to  suppress  in  imagination  that  which  constitutes  the 
ornamentation  of  these  buildings,  and  consider  only  then-  struc- 


184  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

tiu-e  ;  and,  forgetting,  if  possible,  all  knowledge  of  wliat  the  orna- 
mentation was,  to  endeavour  to  re-decorate  them  in  a  rational 
manner.  We  may  confidently  predict  that  he  will  design 
sonietliing  very  unlike  the  existing  ornamentation.  I  shall  not, 
however,  enlai'ge  on  this  question,  which  has  been  abeady  dis- 
cussed in  these  Lectures.  We  may  admire  the  architectural 
decoration  of  the  Empu-e  ;  'but  it  can  only  have  originated  in 
the  desire  to  accumulate  costly  materials  and  make  a  display  of 
luxury,  however  striking  or  grand  the  effect.  Exception  should 
certainly  be  made  in  favom-  of  some  buildings  of  a  mixed  char- 
acter, such,  e.g.,  as  the  basilicas,  in  which  the  ornamentation 
was  appropriate  to  the  object,  and  was  an  integral  part  of  the 
structure  :  but  the  Basilica  is  not  a  veritable  Koman  edifice ; 
it  Is  a  composite  of  Greek  and  Oriental  origin. 

In  proportion  as  the  Roman  Empire  tended  to  sliift  its  centre 
towards  the  East,  Greek  genius  regained  the  influence  it  had 
exerted  on  architectural  art  before  the  culmination  of  the 
imperial  power.  It  also,  we  may  observe,  had  conformed  to  the 
times, — to  the  needs  of  the  social  condition  created  by  the 
Romans.  It  did  not  restrict  itself  to  reproducing  or  reviving 
the  forms  in  vogue  when  Pericles  lived.  It  had  perceived  the 
advantages  to  be  derived  from  the  Roman  system  of  construction, 
and  after  having  long  submitted  to  being  merely  the  decorator 
of  that  structure,  proceeded  to  improve  it  by  bringing  it  into 
harmony  with  the  mode  of  ornamentation.  I  grant  that  the 
decoration  of  the  Pantheon  of  Agrippa  is  much  superior  in  point 
of  execution  to  that  of  the  Church  of  St.  Sophia  at  Constanti- 
nople ;  but  a  brief  examination  will  suffice  to  show  that,  between 
the  ornamentation  and  the  structure  of  the  latter  building,  there 
is  much  closer  connection  than  in  the  Pantheon  :  though  in  the 
Church  of  St.  Sopliia  we  find  ornamentation  that  is  superposed, 
it  merely  forms  a  kind  of  tapestry,  and  the  orders  serve  a  useful 
and  even  necessary  purpose. 

Before  we  begin  to  consider  Byzantine  ornamentation,  it  will 
be  well  to  inquire  how  decorative  art  was  conceived  by  the 
Greek  populations  of  Syria  not  far  distant  from  Constantinople. 
We  will  take  one  of  the  most  simple  examples  of  Syrian  arclii- 
tectiure, — ^in  fact  one  of  the  most  ordinary  type,  so  as  more 
clearly  to  manifest  the  essential  character  of  that  Greek  genius 
which  could  so  readily  adapt  itself  to  new  conditions  without 
departing  from  true  prmciples.  Every  one  has  seen  the  Greek- 
Itahan  houses  of  Pompeii,  or  is  at  any  rate  acquainted  with  them 
through  the  medium  of  fairly  exact  representations  ;  there  is 
no  need  therefore  to  direct  special  attention  here  to  the  practical 
side  of  these  examples  of  domestic  architecture,  or  to  its  grace 
and  elegance,  so  perfectly  in  harmony  with  the  requu'ements  and 


E 


Pi,  XW  III. 


ENTI\ALE 


^ 


c 


I  "A  MortJ.  i  C'F.diUur 


MAISON  GJ^ECqUF,  _    SYf\lK  CENTF^AL?': 


LECTURE  XV.  T85 

habits  of  the  people.  Ornate  or  smiple,  the  houses  of  Pompeii 
have  an  equal  value  in  point  of  art,  and  theu'  oi'namentation  is 
the  expression  of  those  habits.  Those  straggling  towns  on  the 
shores  of  the  Gulf  of  Naples,  built  in  a  charming  environment, 
rich  in  materials  and  resources  of  eveiy  kind,  offered  to  their 
inhabitants  an  easy  and  elegant  existence  which  displays  itself 
in  their  buildmgs.  Different  in  character  were  the  small  towns 
scattered  about  the  neighbourhood  of  Antioch  in  the  route 
followed  by  the  caravans  which  maintained  the  commercial 
relations  of  Persia  and  the  Ai'abian  Gidf  with  Constantinople. 
Built  in  an  arid  region,  whose  climate  is  burning  in  summer  and 
capricious  in  winter,  the  sole  reason  for  their  existence  was  the 
continual  passing  of  the  caravans.  In  the  country  in  question 
there  are  no  rivers,  scarcely  even  torrents  ;  no  timber,  but  stone 
everywhere.  The  ruins  of  many  of  those  small  cities  still 
exist,  and  exhibit  dwellings  almost  mtact  ;  since,  as  a  great  por- 
tion of  the  district  they  occupied  was  completely  devoid  of 
timber,  eveiy  part  of  the  buUdmg  was  made  of  stone,  even  the 
doors  themselves.  The  floors  consisted  of  large  slabs  laid  across 
lintels  or  arches.  The  terraced  roofs  were  made  in  the  same 
way.  It  might  be  supposed  that  with  ajipliances  thus  limited, 
these  habitations  must  resemble  mere  burrows.  Not  at  all ;  the 
Greek  still  knows  how  to  introduce  art  into  his  primitive 
buildings,  and  how  to  make  the  ornamentation  expressive  of  the 
requirements,  and  in  perfect  accord  with  the  mode  of  structure. 
Plate  XXVII.  represents  the  interior  of  one  of  those  small 
dweUings  m  Central  Sp'ia.^  Could  construction  be  more  frankly 
expi-essed,  or  could  ornamentation  be  more  simple  and  truthful  ? 
The  principal  apartments  occupy  a  ground-floor  and  a  first  story, 
and  open  mto  the  two  low  and  comparatively  deep  porticos,  so 
well  adapted  as  a  shelter  from  the  sun's  heat  and  the  storms  of 
winter,  which  are  tei'rible  in  those  regions.  The  portico  of  the 
ground-floor,  which  is  without  any  mouldings,  and  which  was 
perhaps  decorated  with  a  few  paintings,  consists  of  single  stones 
on  end,  supjiorting  lintels  which  receive  in  a  rebate  the  slabs 
that  form  the  first-story  floor.  AU  the  ornamentation  is  reserved 
for  this  story  ;  it  is  the  loc/gia  of  the  dweUing, — the  jiart  in 
which  the  family  associate.  The  wide  moulding  that  environs  the 
portico  and  terminates  in  volutes,  is  surmoiuited  by  the  project- 
ing cornice  formed  by  the  ends  of  the  slabs  that  cover  in  the 
building.  A  gutter  sunk  in  the  cornice  receives  the  water  of  the 
ten-ace,  wliich  is  thrown  oft'  by  gargoyles  into  the  court.  Three 
columns,  with  capitals  of  various  forms,  give  to  this  upper 
portico  an  aspect  of  gi'aceful  strength,  wliich  is  mcreased  by  the 

'  This  house,  situated  in  the  district  of  Refaili,  bears  the  date  August  13,  510  (see  la 
Si/rie  Cenlrak  par  M.  le  Comic  Mdchior  de  Vojiii,  dessiiis  de  M.  DutlioU). 


186  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

solid  balustrade  whose  panel  moulding  deviates  to  enable  the 
column  bases  to  abut  against  a  plane  surface.  Where  a  lintel 
is  placed  at  right  angles  to  another,  the  monolith  is  hewn  with 
a  projecting  corbel  to  receive  the  bearing  of  that  lintel.  These 
are  small  matters  I  allow  :  but  in  architecture  these  small  matters 
are  very  nearly  everything ;  and  the  satisfaction  we  experience 
in  observing  them  is  greater  than  the  pleasure  we  feel  in  looking 
at  a  facade  covered  with  ornamentation,  whose  use  or  meaning 
we  do  not  comprehend.  In  this  impretentious  dwelling,  more- 
over, is  not  the  sense  of  proportions  profoundly  manifest  ?  Are 
not  these  in  just  relation  to  the  human  size  ?  Does  not  the 
house  distinctly  indicate  the  habits  of  its  occupants  ? 

In  other  parts  of  the  same  country,  more  favoured  by  climate, 
there  was  timber.  And  here  we  find  another  system  of  con- 
struction, and  consequently  another  mode  of  ornamentation. 
Yet  these  tribes  who  built  so  differently  were  neighbours 
living  only  a  few  miles  apai-t ;  and  they  were  building  their 
villages  at  the  same  time.  How  was  it  then  that  they  did  not 
proceed  as  we  are  now  doing  ?  we,  who  in  our  villages  try 
to  imitate  the  buildings  of  our  tow-ns,  and  who,  so  far  from 
endeavoiu'ing  to  vary  the  mode  of  ornamentation,  according  to 
the  nature  of  tlie  materials,  the  climate,  and  the  customs  of  our 
several  localities,  reproduce  ad  nauseam,  from  one  end  of  an 
extensive  country  to  the  other,  designs  whose  only  justification 
is  the  unreasonuig  fashion  of  the  day  1  Why  was  it  ?  Because 
the  tribes  in  question  preserved  the  essence  of  Greek  genius, 
which  is  based  on  common  sense.  And,  incredible  as  it  may 
appear,  it  is  actually  in  the  name  of  this  genius  of  the  Greeks 
that  we  have  lost  what  constituted  its  essential  quality.  A  few 
worthy  persons  once  formed  for  themselves  what  they  called  a 
Greek  style,  a  Greek  taste,  a  Greek  ai't,  in  accordance  with 
their  owai  special  fancies  and  interests ;  and  the  indifierence  of 
the  public  favouring  them,  they  constituted  themselves  the  sole 
inter])reters  of  Greek  art,  and  succeeded  in  persuading  lis  that 
outside  the  pale  of  their  own  little  church  there  is  only  con- 
fusion and  barbarism !  It  is  quite  certain,  however,  that  if 
Greek  genius  could  be  impersonated  and  return  among  us,  it 
would  be  not  a  little  surprised  at  seeing  the  garb  in  which  the 
pretended  Classical  school  has  wrapped  it,  and  the  senseless 
things  done  in  its  name. 

At  Byzantium  the  force  of  Roman  traditions  was  too  strong 
to  allow  Greek  feeling  to  exert  so  radical  an  influence  on  art ; 
nevertheless  that  influence  is  largely  manifest.  The  first  thing 
that  strikes  us  is  that  it  estabhshes  a  decided  correlation  between 
the  ornamentation  and  the  structure ;  in  the  Church  of  St. 
Sophia   at   Constantinople   we    should   search    in    vain   for   an 


LECTURE  XV.  187 

ai'chitectural  member,  even  a  decorative  one,  that  does  not 
serve  a  necessary  pui-pose.  It  would  not  be  possible  to  remove 
from  tliis  edifice  whole  orders — columns  and  entalilatures, — as 
has  been  done  in  Rome,  without  causing  the  ruin  of  the  building. 
In  the  Church  of  St.  Sophia  the  columns  and  their  capitals  are 
not  merely  ornamental ;  they  really  support  the  structure.  The 
latter  even  assume  a  novel  forai,  appropriate  to  tlie  pui-pose, 
wliich  is  to  receive  the  springers  of  arches  and  vaulting.  As 
to  the  interior  j^Iane  surfaces,  they  are  covered  with  slabs  of 
marble  on  the  vertical  parts,  and  with  mosaics  in  the  vaulting. 

We  said  that  the  Greeks  of  Classic  times  did  not  employ 
coloured  marbles,  but  coloured  the  white  marble  or  stone.  They 
thus  controlled  the  colour-hamiony  of  the  exterior,  as  well  as 
of  the  interior  of  theii'  edifices.  And  the  fii"st  requisite  for 
securing  colour-harmony  is  to  employ  oidy  the  same  substances, 
or  substances  that  wUl  readily  blend.  Applied  colour  has  the 
advantage  of  presenting  surfaces  similar  in  appearance,  if  not  in 
point  of  tint,  at  least  in  pomt  of  material,  uniformity  of  grain, 
smoothness,  apparent  hardness,  brilliancy,  and  so  forth.  But 
when  we  employ  in  a  building  materials  such  as  coloured  marble 
or  jasper,  or  red  or  green  porphyry,  painting  can  never  ally 
itself  with  these  substances  which  are  coloured  by  nature,  and 
present  reflective  effects  and  remai'kable  intensity  of  tone. 

No  painted  decoration  will  harmonise  with  these  natural 
colourings.  Coloured  marble  demands  marble  or  coloured  sub- 
stances analogous  to  it  in  appearance,  or  metals  such  as  gold  or 
bronze.  The  Romans  of  the  Empire  did  not  hesitate  to  com- 
bine the  two  modes  of  colour-decoration,  that  resultincr  from 
naturally  coloured  materials,  and  that  produced  by  painting. 
But  we  must  not  take  the  Romans  for  models  of  refined  taste 
in  art.  When  Roman  architecture  was  introduced  at  Byzan- 
tium, among  Greek  comnuinities,  it  was  not  long  before  the 
latter  made  their  instinctive  taste  prevail.  Ornamentation 
and  structure  were  intmiately  united ;  and  since  the  Empire 
required  the  employment  of  coloured  marble,  the  whole  system 
of  colouring  was  made  to  consist  of  the  use  of  marble  or  sub- 
stances of  sunilar  appearance,  such,  e.g.  as  glass  mosaics.  The 
walls  were  therefore  covered  with  large  marble  slabs  of  har- 
monious shades ;  the  columns  were  made  of  marble  intensely 
strong  and  warm  in  colour,  porphyry  and  jasper ;  the  capitals 
and  bases  were  worked  in  white  marble,  and  were  covered 
with  delicate  carving,  which  did  not  destroy  their  expression 
as  supports,  and  the  vaults  and  curved  surfaces,  which  it  was 
not  possible  to  line  with  marble  slabs,  were  overlaid  with. 
mosaics  made  with  small  cubes  of  coloured  glass,  forming  a 
translucent  enamel  on  a  gilt  ground.    Thus  the  general  aspect  of 


188  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

the  decoration  was  that  presented  by  brilhant,  hard-lookhig 
substances  having  analogous  colour  effects  ;  when  painting  was 
em  I  cloyed,  it  was  only  secondary,  on  detached  parts  of  the 
building,  and  did  not  enter  into  the  general  effect.  Moi'eover, 
there  was  no  sculpture  except  delicate  diaperings,  or  very  slender* 
tracery  which  could  not  affect  the  repose  of  the  general  lines. 
This  is  a  principle  of  essential  importance  when  we  wish  to  give 
an  aspect  of  grandeur  to  a  budding ;  hence  the  interior  of  the 
Church  of  St.  Sophia  appears  still  more  vast  than  it  really  is, 
while  the  interior  of  St.  Peter's  at  Home  appears  comjiara- 
tively  small  on  account  of  tlie  colossal  sculptures  and  mouldings 
which  constitute  its  decorations. 

Though  the  style  of  the  architecture  of  St.  Sophia  is  open  tf> 
much  criticism,  though  the  construction  of  that  edifice,  despite 
the  grandeur  of  the  conception,  is  not  perfect,  and  even  shows 
in  many  parts  carelessness  and  a  decline  in  art,  when  compared 
with  that  of  the  buildings  of  the  best  period  of  the  Enijjire ', 
nevertheless,  as  regards  the  right  conception  of  interior  orna- 
mentation, this  vast  church  would  seem  to  have  resolved 
the  problem.  The  theme  is  so  perfectly  rendered  that  nothing 
could  be  added,  nothing  could  be  taken  away ;  and  this  because 
the  plan  adopted  is  so  frank  and  clear,  and  is  so  rigorously 
pursued  from  the  basement  to  the  vaidting  ;  because  the  manner 
in  which  the  exterior  light  is  distrilnited  adds  still  more  to  the 
effect  by  completing  it, — ^by  throwing  over  the  whole  of  these 
surfaces  analogous  in  material,  and  having  similar  colouring 
qualities,  a  shimmering  light,  whose  intensity  is  equal  through 
the  very  similarity  of  material  on  which  the  light  strikes.  Both 
the  great  central  dome  and  the  ajjsidal  vaults  of  St.  Sophia's  are, 
as  is  well  known,  perforated  at  their  base  by  a  series  of  windows 
pretty  close  together,  thus  making  these  vaults  appear  like  sails 
fastened  at  certain  points  and  bellied  out  by  the  wind.  Inde- 
pendently of  the  effect  produced  by  this  mode  of  structure,  these 
openings  at  the  base  of  the  vaulting  have  the  further  advantage 
of  ilhnninating  a  stratum  of  air  beneath  the  intrados  of  the 
cupolas.  This  sheet  of  atmosphere,  thus  lighted,  interposes  a 
luminous  haze  between  the  eye  of  the  spectator  and  the  upper 
mosaics,  which,  without  this  interposing  medium,  would  ajij^ear 
hard  and  too  bright ;  whereas  they  thus  assume  a  transparent 
tone  which  raises  and  softens  them.  Here  again  is  manifested 
the  genius  of  the  Greek,  who,  in  architectural  decoration,  never 
fails  to  take  advantage  of  light  in  producing  the  effects. 

In  the  present  day  these  subtleties  would  probably  bo  con- 
sidered fanciful ;  and  if  an  architect  were  now  to  speak  of  the 
disposition  of  the  lights  as  capable  of  producing  an  effect  of 
grandeur,  repose,  or  cheerfulness  in  the  intei'ior  of  a  building. 


LECTURE  XV.  189 

he  would  most  likely  be  deemed  insane.  He  would  scarcely  be 
thought  better  of  were  he  to  present  designs  in  which  he  had 
considered  the  effects  which  perspective  would  produce  in 
execution.  Tlus  would  be  to  apply  reason  to  decorative  design  ; 
and  in  the  opinion  of  a  certain  school  such  an  apphcation  of 
reason  is  "vmsound." 

Nevertheless,  when  the  outer  and  inner  ornamentation  of 
buildings  is  in  question,  it  would  seem — and  very  many  archi- 
tects of  former  times  have  been  of  this  opinion — that  light, 
perspective,  and  therefore  orientation,  and  tlie  greater  or  less 
distance  of  the  spectator,  should  be  taken  into  account  by  the 
ai'chitect.  By  an  intelligent  consideration  of  those  two  condi- 
tions— whose  effects  we  cannot  ignore, — Ught  and  j^erspective, — 
and  with  a  little  common  sense,  we  may  obviate  vast  expense 
and  produce  desired  effects  with  certainty.  Generally,  however, 
the  architect  is  content  to  produce  satisfactory  effects  on  paper ; 
and  then  discovers,  to  his  great  surprise,  that  when  carried  out 
his  attractive  designs  produce  but  a  poor  result.  Much  expense 
might,  I  maintain,  be  avoided,  by  taking  the  trouble  to  reaUse 
beforehand  the  exact  effect  of  perspective  and  light  on  buildings ; 
and  I  say  further  that  the  more  we  are  able  to  avoid  such  useless 
expenditure,  the  more  we  add  to  the  value  of  a  work  of  art. 
The  main  consideration  is  to  put  things  in  their  proper  place : 
ornamentation  lavished  in  a  fa9ade  till  it  becomes  wearisome  to 
the  s]iectator  would  be  pleasing  were  it  confined  to  a  few  points 
in  which  it  would  find  its  appropriate  position.  In  this  respect 
the  Orientals  excelled  us.  In  their  buildings,  however  ornate 
the  decoration,  it  never  mjures  the  effect  of  the  masses ;  it 
invariably  leaves  pomts  of  repose, — points  moreover  that  are 
dictated  by  the  structure ;  so  far  from  wearying  the  eye,  this 
decoration  engages  it,  because  it  is  put  where  it  tells  to  advan- 
tage. We  have  departed  so  widely  from  the  decorative  methods 
of  the  East,  that  it  is  necessary  to  point  out  wherein  these 
methods  differ  from  those  which  prevail  among  ourselves.' 

Ever  since  the  seventeenth  century,  both  in  Italy  and  France, 
elements  for  decoiutive  features  have  been  sought  in  classical 
architecture  of  a  kind  the  least  appropriate  to  the  exigencies 
of  modern  architecture.  Thus,  e.g.  the  Orders  adojited  during 
the  empire  of  the  Ctesars,  and  which,  with  certain  exceptions, 
constitute  the  edifice,  we,  in  most  cases,  only  employ  as  a 
superposition,  whose  least  defect  is  that  it  divides  the  front  or 
surface  by  vertical  and  horizontal  lines  which  are  offensively 
monotonous.     The  otherwise  inapprojn-iate  use  of  these  orders 

1  In  speaking  of  Eastern  buildings  we  refer  here  only  to  those  of  the  schools  of  Persi.i, 
Asia  Minor,  and  Egypt,  excluding  Hindoo  architecture,  whose  ajsthetical  character  requires 
a  special  consideration  that  would  take  us  beyond  our  limits. 


190  LECTURES  OS  ARC'UITECTURE. 

has  a  perliaps  still  more  serious  disadvantage  in  front  of  orna- 
mentation.      Tlie  arcliitectui'al  orders  have  a  scale,  a  modulus, 
of  their  own,  which  the  ai'chitect  cannot  disregard,  so  that  when, 
for  instance,  he  adopts  superposed  orders  for  a  large  edifice,  he  is 
obliged  to  subordinate  the  ornamentation  of  the  whole,  which  is 
on  a  great  scale,  to  orders  which  are  comparatively  small.      This 
ornamentation  therefore  appears  mean  and  diminutive  in  propor- 
tion   to   the  edirice.     When,  on   the  other  hand,  the  architect 
adopts  on  a  facade  a  colossal  order,  through  whose  divisions  he 
will  be  obliged  to  cut  openings,  to  make  windows  in  the  several 
stories,  and  to  carry  string-courses,  the  scale  of  the  ornamentation 
of  that  order  will  not  accord  with  the  scale  of  ornamentation  in 
the  intercalated  features,  and  there  will  be  a  want  of  harmony. 
We  have  recently  seen  an  instance  of  the  disadvantages  resulting 
from  this  system  in  the  Pavilion  de  Flore  forming  the  corner  of 
the  Palace  of  the  Tuileries  on  the  quay.      Despite  the  unques- 
tionable ability  displayed  by  the  architect  in  this  large  building, 
he  has   not  succeeded,    and  no  one  could  have  succeeded,   in 
making  the  ornamentation  imjsosed  by  the  small  orders,  corre- 
spond with  the  general  scale.     And  the  architect  himself  was  so 
well   aware  of  the   insurmountable   character  of  the  difficulty, 
that  he  endeavoured  to  correct  this  want  of  accord  between  the 
scale  of  the  small  orders  and  the  size  of  the  edifice  by  crowning 
the  angles  and   the   middle  of  the  fronts  of  the  pavilion  with 
colossal  sculptures,  which  are  themselves  in  scale  with  the  entire 
building,  but  not  mth  the  stoiies  of  the  building.     The  following 
circumstance  will  show  exactly  where  the  difficulty  lay.      On  the 
side  of  the  quay  the  able  architect  had  introduced   niches   be- 
tween the  central  piers, — niches  in  which  statues  were  jjlaced. 
These  niches,  with  their  statues,  were  perfectly  in  scale  with  the 
ordonnance  of  the  stories  ;  but  when  the  upper  tympanum  and 
angle-crownings  which  are  in  scale  with  the  building  as  a  whole 
were  uncovered,  the  statues  and  their  niches  appeared  so  mean 
and  out  of  scale  with  the  mass  that  they  had  to  be  removed  ;  the 
effect  was  intolerable.     We  have  cited  this  example,  not  for  the 
sake  of  criticising  an  otherwise  creditable  work,  but  to  exhibit 
the  vice  inherent  in  the  system  adopted  in  architectural  orna- 
mentation since  the  seventeenth  century, — a  vice  whose  evil 
results  no  ability  can  obviate.     And  when  the  architect  is  less 
gifted  or  less  scrupulous,  less  inclined  to  correct  his  work,  then 
the  case  is  much  worse  !     Starting  wath  false  conceptions,  there 
is  no  extravagance  or  caprice  of  which  he  is  not  guilty.     He 
covers   the    fronts   with    carvings,    some   flat    and   quiet   hke 
arabesques,  others  prominent  and  striking  in  effect.     The  more 
he  puts,  the  more  he  needs  to  put,  and  every  bare  place  seems 
to  trouble  his  spuit.     Having  e^austed  tlie  means  which  stone 


LECTURE  XV.  .  191 

affords  liim,  and  having  adopted  every  scale  at  the  same  time,  or 
rather  having  disregarded  every  scale  both  in  relation  to  the 
whole  and  the  parts, — having  failed  to  produce  a  satisfactory 
result,  and  feeling  instinctively  that  all  his  striving  and  all  his 
accumulation  of  detail  only  presents  a  disconnected  whole, — • 
he  has  recourse  to  decorative  appliances  of  another  order,  to 
marbles,  or  metallic  lustre,  with  no  other  ultimate  result  but 
that  of  manifesting  the  utter  absence  of  idea.  According  to  the 
truthful  Greek  saying,  Unable  to  render  his  work  beautiful,  he 
has  made  it  rich.  This  feebleness  on  the  part  of  the  artist, 
when  he  ceases  to  be  guided  by  right  ideas  in  architectural 
ornamentation,  is  not  of  modern  date.  The  Romans  of  the 
Empire  fell  into  similar  aben-ations,  and  into  such  all  do  and 
will  fall  who  regard  architectural  oi-namentation  merely  as  a 
question  of  caprice, — a  pure  work  of  imagination  independent  of 
the  limits  traced  by  sound  judgment  or  conunon  sense,  and  a 
delicate  observation  of  scale  and  perspective  effects. 

But  it  would  be  undesirable  to  select  examples  for  criticism 
solely  among  those  works  which  in  the  general  opinion  are  justly 
considered  the  feeblest.  In  every  system  of  architecture  it  is 
the  chefs-d'ceuvre  which  should  be  compared  ;  not  an  excellent 
building  on  the  one  hand,  and  on  the  other  one  of  mediocre 
stamp  :  for  even  granting  the  inferiority  of  one  system  relatively 
to  the  other,  ability  may  be  .shown  in  the  manner  of  applying 
principles  vicious  in  themselves,  or  rather  in  treatment,  while 
the  laws  prescribed  by  reason  are  neglected,  and  the  dictates 
of  fancy  alone  are  followed.  It  would  be  unjust  not  to  acknow- 
ledge, for  instance,  that  there  is  much  excellent  work  in  point 
of  ornamentation  in  the  edifices  erected  since  the  seventeenth 
century,  under  the  influence  of  a  fixlse  application  of  Classic 
art.  Thus  the  fronts  of  the  buildings  of  the  Garde  Meuble 
on  the  Place  de  la  Concorde  in  Paris  exhibit  a  successM 
application  of  the  orders  in  a  building  of  our  o\^'n  age.  Besides 
the  fact  that  the  junction  of  these  fronts  with  the  sides  is 
cleverly  managed,  and  that  they  do  not  present  that  mere  super- 
position of  features  wliich  is  so  common  in  the  present  day,  the 
large- columned  portico,  resting  on  a  ground  story  whose  rela- 
tive proportions  are  excellent,  expresses  its  purpose  as  forming 
immense  loggias  sheltering  two  stories.  We  have  here  an  idea 
that  is  truly  architectural,  and  which  lends  itself  to  ornamental 
effect  by  giving  an  opportunity  for  the  most  pleasing  contrasts 
of  light  and  shade,  and  by  affording  a  magnificent  covered 
terrace  for  the  apartments  situated  on  the  level  of  the  portico, 
and  an  isolation  of  these  from  the  public  road  that  is  per- 
fectly justifiable  and  dignified.  This  style  of  decoration  has  no 
need  of  marbles  or  gilding  to  produce  its  full  eflect ;  and  despite 


192  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

its  sumptuous  character  it  has  an  air  of  repose  and  dignity 
befitting  the  place  it  occupies.  The  great  loggia  opens,  as  reason 
would  dictate,  in  the  middle  of  the  building,  and  terminates  at 
either  extremity  by  the  two  pavilions  which,  forming  square 
returns,  connect  the  principal  front  with  the  two  lateral  fronts 
in  a  natvu'al  and  harmonious  way.  The  scale  of  the  colonnade 
is  large  enough  to  admit  of  its  details  being  proportioned  to  the 
general  scale  of  the  palace,  and  in  conformity  with  the  method 
of  the  architects  of  the  best  periods,  and  with  the  best  examples, 
the  ai'chitect  was  wisely  sparing  of  sculpture  on  this  front.  He 
reserved  the  delicacies  of  enrichment  for  the  central  loggia, 
carefully  avoiding  the  least  approach  to  sculpture  on  the  open- 
arched  basement.  This  work  therefore  is — in  our  opinion  at 
least — really  beautiful  and  excellent,  because  it  bears  the  impress 
of  sound  reasoning,  of  thorough  consideration,  and  of  that 
sobriety  from  which  the  architect  should  never  depart,  even  in 
the  most  sumptuous  buildings.  Had  he  expended  thousands 
more  in  covering  the  lateral  pavilions  and  the  under  portico  with 
decorative  sculpture  or  statuary  in  groups  or  single  figures,  he 
would  have  lessened  the  genex'al  effect  of  grandeur  which  is 
now  so  powerfully  exjjressed. 

One  of  the  conditions  of  beauty  in  an  architectural  work  is 
that  it  should  impress  all  who  see  it  as  having  been  produced 
natui'ally  without  effort,- — without  occasioning  trouble  or  anxious 
consideration  to  its  designer,  that  in  fact  it  could  not  have  been 
otherwise.  In  particular,  it  should  be  free  from  those  expedients 
that  beti'ay  paucity  of  ideas,^ — those  hits  which  bear  the  mark 
of  studied  effort,  and  the  aim  on  the  part  of  the  designer  to 
astound  and  engage  the  attention  of  the  passers-by  without 
being  able  to  satisfy  hia  mind.  To  be  clear,  to  be  comprehen- 
sible without  requiring  an  effort :  this  is,  and  always  will  be, 
the  aim  which  the  architect  should  have  in  view.  The  highest 
praise  to  which  the  public  speaker  can  asj^ire  is  the  remark  on 
the  part  of  the  hearers:  "That  is  just  what  I  thought;  he 
exactly  expressed  my  feeling."  Similarly,  in  viewing  the  work 
of  tlie  architect,  every  one  should  experience  the  impression  that 
the  materials  in  combination  do  but  reflect  the  anticipation  of 
the  beholder, — that  the  conception  as  realised  is  the  only  one 
that  was  appropriate  to  the  circumstances  of  the  case. 

However  riclily  ornate  a  building  may  be,  the  ornamentation 
must  be  subordinated  to  the  conception,  in  order  not  to  weaken, 
disturb,  or  obscure  its  expression.  I  grant  that  in  such  a  case 
the  more  lavish  the  ornamentation  the  more  vigorously  should 
the  idea  be  expressed,  and  that  it  can  be  more  easily  mani- 
fested in  a  building  which  is  simple  than  in  one  that  is  loaded 
with  ornament.     But  it  is  plam  that  where  an  idea  is  wanting 


LECTURE  XV. 


193 


the  temptation   is   strong  to  conceal  feebleness  of  conception 
beneath  a  parasitical  embellishment. 

I  remarked  that  the  Orientals  are  our  superiors  in  archi- 
tectural ornamentation,  because  among  them  that  ornamentation 
never  obscures  the  dominant  conception  ;  on  the  contrary,  it 
always  powerfully  aids  its  expression,  and  is  its  natural  mani- 
festation. It  must  indeed  be  observed  at  the  outset  that  among 
them  such  dominant  conception  is  never  wanting.  Talking 
without  having  anything  to  say  is  one  of  the  innovations  for 
winch  the  Academies  are  responsible,  and  whose  injurious  results 


Fio.  2.— Idea  of  the  Greek  Temi'le. 

are  too  often  conspicuous  in  the  arcliitectui'e  of  these  latter  days. 
I  am  aware  that  by  a  certain  school  idea  in  art  is  regarded  as 
of  secondary  miportance ;  but  the  fact  is  that  idea  in  art  has 
an  knperious  aspect,  or  at  any  rate  a  far  from  subordinate  one  ; 
its  manifestations  not  unfrequently  savour  of  freedom  and  an 
unwillingness  to  make  concessions  ; — characteristics  that  are 
displeasing  to  those-  corporate  bodies  in  whose  esteem  self- 
obliteration  is  the  highest  excellence. 

Ai-chitectural  ornamentation  is,  however,  attractive  only  as 
far  as  it  expresses  an  idea  Avith  great  clearness.     We  have  seen 

VOL.  II.  N 


li)4  LECTURED  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

how,  in  certain  classical  buildings,  the  idea  is  indicated  by  the 
work  ;  let  us  pursue  this  investigation.  We  will  take  a  Greek 
temple  of  early  age  :  the  great  temple  of  Peestum,  for  instance, 
lig.  2.  What  is  the  thought  or  idea  of  the  architect  ?  It  is 
clearly  mdicated  by  the  plan.  Here  the  temple  is  a  chest,  a 
capsa  contauiing  the  image  of  the  special  or  local  divinity,  and 
the  offerings  by  which  that  image  is  sm-rounded.  Around  this 
chest  or  enclosure,  if  we  like  to  call  it  so,  is  a  portico, — an 
ambulacrum,  a  kind  of  screen  covered,  but  open,  in  order  that  the 
cella,  or  enclosed  part,  may  be  visible.  In  what  then  consists 
the  ornamental  part  of  the  edifice  ?  It  is  the  ojien  screen  itself 
alone  that  constitutes  it.  The  Greek  architect  made  this  outer 
screen  the  groundwork  of  his  architectm'al  design,  and  in  working 
out  that  design  he  sought  for  the  most  harmonious  .system  of 
proportions  and  forms  he  could  possibly  find.  Figure  A,  in  which 
for  greater  clearness  we  have  shown  only  the  corner  columns, 
explains  this  so  simple  conception — that  of  a  box  surrounded  by 
a  covered  screen.  Whether  the  tympanums  are  embellished  with 
sculpture,  whether  the  angles  of  the  pediments  are  crowned  by 
statues  or  acroteria,  or  the  metopes  decorated  with  bas-reliefs, — - 
such  embeUishment  in  nowise  affects  the  idea  nor  the  accordance 
of  the  ornamentation  with  the  idea.  And  when  once  the  archi- 
tect has  succeeded  so  admirably  in  establishmg  this  harmony  at 
the  very  outset,  he  has  full  liberty  to  perfect  the  details  of 
his  origmal  conception,  and  in  such  a  way  that  while  perfecting 
them,  he  is  only  expressing  that  first  idea  m  a  better  and  more 
attractive  manner.  But  it  is  not  often  that  the  opportunity  is 
given  of  expressing  an  idea  so  simple  ;  or  rather  most  of  our 
modern  buildings  necessitate  a  combmation  of  various  ideas. 

It  is  none  the  less  evident  that,  however  complicated  the 
programme  may  be,  there  is  a  dominant  idea.  Is  it  a  Palace 
that  has  to  be  built  ?  There  will  be  the  principal  hall, — the 
centre  of  gathering.  Is  it  a  Church  ?  There  will  be  the  chancel. 
Is  it  a  pubhc  library  ?  From  the  central  reading-room  there 
shoidd  be  every  facility  for  ready  reference.  Is  it  a  market  ? 
There  can  never  be  too  many  openings  for  passing  in  and  out. 
These  chief  requirements  necessitate  architectural  features  in 
accordance  with  them,  and  consequently  an  ornamentation  aidmg 
the  expression  of  these  features. 

Let  us  now  take  a  building  of  quite  another  kind.  In  the 
Greek  temple,  a  divinity — or  a  jealously  exclusive  feature  of  a 
divinity,  according  to  the  Pantheistic  idea — is  m  question : 
some  fraction  or  attribute  to  which  a  special  worship)  is  rendered; 
the  cella  is  closed ;  no  one  enters  it  but  the  priest,  the  initiated 
— the  intei-mediary  between  the  God  and  the  people.  Widely 
different  is  the  mosque.     Here  it  is  not  an  attribute  of  the 


LECTURE  XV. 


195 


supreme  deity  that  is  worshipped,  a  jealous  God,  who  only  com- 
municates with  man  in  the  closed  sanctuary  which  he  prefers  : 
the  God  of  the  Mahometan  is  everywhere ;  he  could  not  be 
represented  by  an  image :  he  may  be  adored  on  the  desert  or 
on  the  ocean  as  well  as  within  a  sacred  enclosure.  But  before 
approaching  him  the  suppliant  must  purify  himself,  collect  his 
thoughts,  meditate  and  render  himself  worthy  to  commune  with 
him.  His  God  prescribes  charity  and  serenity  of  soul.  .  .  . 
What  then  is  a  mosque  ?  There  are  no  images,  there  is  no 
ritual,  no  outward  pomp.     A  mosque  is  nothing  more  than  an 


Fio.  3. — Mosque  of  Mesdjid-i-Shah. 

enclosed  space,  with  recesses,  enabling  each  to  collect  his  thoughts 
in  silent  meditation  ;  and  in  this  enclosure  is  one  particular  spot 
which  indicates,  not  the  presence  of  God,  but  the  single  thought 
in  view  of  which  every  Mahometan  should  direct  his  prayer. 
Let  us  then  examine  one  of  these  buildings.  Here,  fig.  3,  is  the 
plan  of  the  mosque  of  Mesdjid-i-Shah  at  Ispahan.  Its  principal 
entrance  opens  on  one  of  the  galleries  of  an  immense  bazaar 
whose  oi'ientation  is  north  and  south ;  but,  as  the  mosque  itself 
must  be  placed  in  such  a  way  that  every  true  believer  may  direct 
his  prayer  towards  Mecca — "  Turn  thy  face  towards  the  temjDle 


196  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

Harara ;  wherever  thou  art,  direct  thy  gaze  to  that  august 
sanctuary  " ' — the  axis  of  the  mosque  alters  its  direction,  so  as  to 
present  its  sacred  front  to  that  point  of  the  horizon.  At  A  is 
the  first  basm ;  at  B  the  second  Ijasin  for  the  abhitions,  in  the 
midst  of  a  vast  court ;  at  c  other  basins  in  two  lateral  courts 
surrounded  by  recesses  sei-ving  for  shelter.  Though  every 
beUever  without  distinction  of  rank  may  meditate  or  pray 
wherever  he  pleases,  in  the  lateral  courts,  or  in  the  halls  d,  f, 
and  0,  there  is  nevertheless  at  H  a  central  dominant  spot  w-hich 
calls  attention  to  the  unity  of  the  Deity.  By  its  configuration 
alone,  the  plan  indicates  the  decorative  system  that  plainly  ex- 
press3s  the  ruling  idea.  Easy  access  on  every  side,  retired  places 
for  those  who  wish  to  pray  and  meditate  in  solitude ;  but  the 
unity  of  the  Deity  is  denoted  by  the  great  building  that  occupies 
the  middle  of  the  sacred  part.  And  in  fact,  the  elevation  of  this 
front  has  all  the  frankness  of  the  plan.  A  lofty  porch,  a  high 
and  wide  archway  giving  entrance  to  the  hall  ii,  covered  by  a 
pointed  dome,  all  the  other  parts  of  the  buddmg,  are  subordinate 
in  height  to  this  principal  structure.  Fig.  4  presents  a  view  of 
the  middle  part.  The  building  constitutes  in  itself  a  magnificent 
groundwork  of  ornamentation,^  because  it  exactly  fulfils  the 
requirements  of  the  case,  and  clearly  explams  the  ruling  idea. 
Nevertheless  these  surfaces  must  be  embellished.  Shall  it  be 
by  columns  and  entablatures  so  admirably  appropriate  to  the 
requirements  of  the  Greek  temple,  but  which  would  serve  no 
purpose  here  1  Shall  it  be  with  projecting  sculpture,  large  in 
scale,  tending  to  distract  the  minds  of  the  faithful  ?  Or  lastly, 
shall  it  be  wdth  a  pUe  of  small  features  accumulated  without 
meaning,  overloaded  with  mouldings,  useless  members,  niches 
and  pediments  ?  No.  A  facing  of  glazed  faience  will  over- 
spread, as  with  taj^estry,  all  the  plane  surfaces  of  the  building, 
both  within  and  without.  Harmonious  tones  of  colov;r,  and 
admirably  distributed  designs  relatively  small,  will  alone  com- 
pose the  decoration  of  this  edifice, — a  decoration  splendid  in 
effect,  but  with  perfect  unity  of  aspect,  leaving  the  chief  lines 
their  full  imjjortance,  and  the  building  generally  all  its  simple 
grandeur  and  repose.  The  porch,  or  rather  the  enormous 
opening  which  adinits  light  and  air  into  the  central  part  of  the 
mosque,  symbohses  to  the  Mussulman  his  idea  of  the  One 
Divinity  whose  sanctuary  is  the  universe,  whose  dwelling-place 
is  everywhere,  yet  nowhere,  and  to  whom  each  behever  may 
pray  withovit  an  intermediary  :  "  What  is  better  pleasing  to  the 
Lord  than  to  lift  uji  our  faces  to  Him,  to  do  right,  to  follow 

'  Coran,  chap.  ii. 

^  For  the  details  of  the  mosque  see  the  work  of  M.  Coste  :  Monuments  modernes  de  la 
Perae.     The  Mosque  of  Mesdjid-i-Shah  was  built  about  the  year  1580  of  our  era. 


LECTURE  XV. 


19/ 


Fig.  4.— Mosque  of  Mesdjid-i-Shah. 


198  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

tlie  faith  of  Abraham  who  worshipped  only  ono  God,  and  was 
worthy  to  be  called  his  friend  I  God  is  king  of  the  heavens  and 
of  the  earth.  He  embraces  the  universe  in  His  immensity."' 
Two  towers — two  minarets,  flank  the  great  opening.  From  their 
summits  the  hour  of  jJi'ayer  is  announced.  The  dome  that  covers 
the  central  hall,  at  whose  furthest  side  is  a  recess  indicating  the 
du-ection  of  Mecca,  is  itself  covered  with  glazed  bricks  of  Hght 
tones  blending  with  the  brilliance  of  the  sky. 

Here  then  we  have  two  kinds  of  edifices  greatly  difiering  in 
purpose  and  requirements,  but  in  whose  execution  the  idea  that 
produced  them  is  clearly  expressed.  Whether  we  prefer  Greek 
ai'chitecture  to  Persian,  or  Greek  pantheism  to  Mahometan 
monotheism,  is  little  to  our  purpose ;  but  it  cannot  be  denied 
that  these  distinctly  various  decorative  forms  are  each  perfectly 
appropriate  to  their  object,  that  in  both  cases  the  form  expresses 
the  idea,  and  that  we  cannot  take  any  form  that  comes  to  hand 
from  the  architectiurtJ  repertory  to  express  a  special  idea.  More- 
over we  cannot  fail  to  perceive  that  the  ornamentation  is  not  a 
commonplace  enrichment  suitable  for  the  embelhshment  of  any 
building  whatsoever ;  that  the  ornamentation  is  contemplated 
in  the  very  plan,  takes  shape  in  the  first  conception  of  the 
programme  ;  that  it  is  already  indicated  in  the  structure,  if  that 
structure  is  a  sensible  one;  that  it  fits  the  edifice,  not  as  the 
dress,  but  as  the  muscles  and  skin  fit  the  man ;  that  the  method 
which  consists  in  ornamenting  a  building  as  we  ornament  the 
walls  of  a  room  or  hall  with  medallions,  arms,  or  pictures,  is  a 
method  of  somewhat  recent  date,  since  it  was  never  employed, 
either  by  the  ancients  during  their  best  periods  of  art,  or  during 
the  IVIiddle  Ages ;  so  that  in  fact  those  who  employ  tliis  method 
must  either  condemn  the  best  works  of  the  ancients,  or  condemn 
themselves  if  they  appreciate  the  excellence  of  those  woi'ks.  The 
kind  of  oi'namentation  employed  in  the  mosque  of  Mesdjid-i- 
Shah,  a  facuig  of  enamel  that  clothes  the  walls  as  with  a 
tapestry,  is  all  the  more  appropriate  there  because  the  edifice  is 
built  of  baked  brick,  and  the  decoration  is  laid  on  the  same 
material  as  that  employed  m  the  building,  and  because  wdth 
brick  it  is  not  possible  to  obtain  greatly  projecting  members. 
The  basements  only  are  faced  wdth  a  reddish  marble. 

Let  us  now  consider  an  edifice  of  a  totally  different  order. 
Let  us  go  to  Venice  and  examine  the  old  palace  built  of  stone. 
We  need  not  concern  ourselves  with  the  decorative  detail,  which 
is  not  irreproachable  in  point  of  taste  ;  but  let  us  look  at  the 
general  features.  The  old  ducal  palace  of  the  Piazzetta  of  St. 
Mark  consists  externally  of  two  porticos,  one  over  the  other, 
supporting  the  actual  mansion,  which  is  composed  of  lofty  and 

'  Coran,  chap.  iv. 


7 


U 


T 


cX)i:hs   D'Aun-irrHc-Ti  ui-: 


m 


\  H    r\i  \h-  iii-:->  I " "  .1'  ■■•  I  viiNisi-: 


Pi.,  XXIX 


d 


m 


c 


LECTURE  XV. 


199 


spacious  rooms.  Here  again  the  requirements  of  the  case  are  as 
frankly  met  as  in  the  Greek  temple  and  the  mosque  of  Ispahan. 
The  box,  the  enclosed  part,  is  supported  on  the  uprights  of  the 
porticos,  at  the  back  of  which  are  the  secondary  offices.  The 
rigorous  interpretation  of  the  programme,  supposing  the  edifice 
erected  of  wood — that  is,  by  the  readiest  and  most  economical 
means — would  give  figin-e  5.  But  the  intention  is  to  build  a 
durable  edifice,  to  employ  solid  materials,  and  to  produce, 
without  contravening  their  properties,  the  appearance  of  an 
enclosed  habitation,  containing  vast  apartments,  and  placed  upon 
a  covered  ambulacrum  of  two  stories. 

The  Venetian  architect  has  scrupulously  fulfilled  the  condi- 
tions of  this  programme,  and  his  work  owes  all  its  decorative 
efiect  to  the  genuine  and  forcible  expression  of  the  stnicture. 
There  are  few  to  whom  this  edifice  is  not  familiar,  either  from 
engi-avings  or  photographs,  or  actual  inspection.     Now,  whether 


Fig.  5.— Idea  of  the  Venetian  Palace. 


we  admire  the  style  of  the  architecture  or  are  indifferent  to  it, 
the  general  design  of  the  building  never  fails  to  produce  a  veiy 
strong  and  lasting  impression, — the  sure  mark  of  special  excel- 
lence and  a  truthful  expression.  The  details  of  the  ornamenta- 
tion, whatever  be  their  merits  or  demerits,  have  nothing  to  do 
with  the  impression  produced,  and  any  architect  might,  while 
modifying  the  style  in  accordance  with  the  prevaihng  taste,  pro- 
duce as  marked  an  effect,  pro\'ided  he  as  scrupulously  rendered 
the  general  idea.  In  point  of  decorative  detail  also,  this  edifice, 
such  as  it  is,  presents  some  remarkable  chai-acteristics.  By  his 
skilfid  treatment  of  the  angles — a  delicate  point — the  architect 
has  succeeded  in  givmg  an  aspect  of  sturdy  strength  to  the 
system  of  props  that  support  a  box  of  massive  appearance.  Plate 
XXIX.,  representing  the  angle,  shows  the  excellence  of  the  design. 
In  order  to  lighten  the  heavy  appearance  of  the  marelieved  wall 
over  the  galleries,  the  architect  built   it  of  materials  in  two 


200  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

colours — red  and  wliite — forming  a  regular  pattern  like  a  kind 
of  broad  mosaic.  Here  again  the  Venetian  architect  found 
his  precedent  in  the  methods  of  the  Orientals,  those  great 
masters  in  decorative  art.  Leaving  wide  plane  surfaces  in 
contrast  with  deeply-recessed  parts  full  of  dark  shades  and 
bright  points,  and  covering  these  even  surfaces  with  a  colourmg 
that  engages  the  eye  without  destroying  their  unity,  is  one  of 
the  means  of  ornamentation  most  frequently  and  felicitously 
employed  by  Oriental  artists.  Small  but  apparent  imbri- 
cations of  the  simplest  character,  bricks  mingled  with  white 
materials,  suffice  to  produce  the  always  pleasmg  effect  of  plane 
surfaces  affording  a  colour  value  contrasted  with  features  covered 
with  detail,  and  presenting  projections  and  recesses.  Opposite 
this  palace  thei'e  stands  another  building  of  nearly  similar 
destination  (the  Procurazzi),  where  Renaissance  taste  displays 
itself  in  all  its  splendour,  and  the  ornamental  details  are  charm- 
ing. But  the  stamp  of  frankness  and  dignity  is  wanting,  and 
our  gaze  always  reverts  to  the  old  ducal  palace,  whose  exterior 
indicates  so  well  the  destination  of  its  interior,  and  whose 
decorative  system  is  so  perfectly  in  harmony  with  the  structure. 
On  looking  at  the  facade  do  we  not  see  that  the  lower  portico  is 
vaulted,  and  that  the  upper  one  supports  a  timber  floor — the 
floor  of  the  apartments  above — and  that  the  ceilings  of  these 
apartments  are  of  wood  ?  No  projecting  buttresses  or  pilasters 
for  the  upper  story,  which  is  nothing  other  than  a  box  perfor- 
ated with  great  ^vuldows. 

Perhaps,  however,  our  Western  architecture  of  the  North 
before  the  period  of  the  Renaissance,  is  still  more  frank  in  its 
decorative  features.  The  relations  of  the  ornamentation  to  the 
structure  are  more  harmonious,  and  the  ornamentation  itself  is 
more  artistic  :  it  is  true  that  in  these  buildings  are  not  to  be 
found  those  parasitical  decorations  which  abound  in  our  modern 
architecture  ;  and  this  must  be  regarded  as  a  deficiency  if  we  are 
to  accept  the  judgment  of  the  intolerant  school  now  dominant. 
Not  that  this  school  takes  the  trouble  to  pronounce  such  an 
opinion  candidly ;  that  is  not  its  mode  of  procedure  ;  it  does  not 
discuss  principles  ;  it  is  content  to  hinder  their  formation  by 
every  means  in  its  power,  for  principles  are  troublesome — they 
entail  obligations. 

In  our  opinion  the  best  architecture  is  that  whose  ornamen- 
tation cannot  be  divorced  from  the  structure.  Whatever  be  the 
merit  of  a  piece  of  carving — or  of  a  decorative  composition — if 
such  piece  of  carving,  or  even  such  composition,  can  be  removed 
without  making  it  apparent  that  the  edifice  lacks  something 
essential,  that  accessory  is  of  small  value,  and  perhaps  even  pre- 
judicial.    It  needs  no  great  practical  knowledge  to  recognise  the 


LECTURE  XV.  201 

decorative  features  wliich  an  architect  has  added  to  a  building, 
and  wliich  are  not  necessitated  by  the  structure.  For  instance, 
ornamented  panels  are  perfectly  justifiable  in  wood- work,  but 
they  are  utterly  out  of  place  in  a  stone  pier.  Medalhons  stuck 
against  a  plane  wall,  like  pictures  in  a  room,  are  evidently  not 
an  ornamentation  suggested  by  a  requirement  of  construction. 
Surmounting  a  door  or  a  window  with  symbols  more  or  less 
ingeniously  designed,  making  the  cornice  of  the  opening  remind 
us  of  a  collector's  chimney-piece  covered  with  curiosities,  cannot 
be  considered  veritable  arcliitectural  ornamentation.  Groups  of 
figiu-es  placed  on  a  pediment,  and  wlrich  appear  to  have  escaped 
from  it  in  order  to  be  moi-e  at  ease  on  the  roof,  make  sensible 
pei'sons  long  to  push  these  escaping  figures  back  into  their 
frame.  Little  circular  openings,  filled  with  busts  on  theu' 
stands,  may  perhaps  suit  a  gallery  of  porti-aits,  but  have  a  most 
unmeaning  appearance  on  an  external  fajade.  Curved  or  tri- 
angidar  pediments  surmounting  window  jambs,  keystones  of 
arches  whose  exaggerated  projection  supports  nothing,  may  be 
called,  without  too  much  severity,  decorative  make-weights. 
Apart  from  the  expense  they  occasion,  without  any  advantage  to 
art,  these  commonplaces  so  greatly  in  vogue  have  a  still  graver 
fault — they  weary  and  nauseate  the  spectator,  and  gradually 
lead  to  a  distaste  for  aU  architectural  forms  ;  in  fact,  to  such  a 
.  degree  is  this  the  case  that  he  comes  to  abouunate  these  un- 
meaning ornaments,  and  even  ceases  to  find  any  pleasure  in  those 
with  which  veritable  masters  of  design  in  past  or  present  times 
have  embellished  theh  works.  Bad  classical  tragedies  have 
hindered  many  from  going  to  representations  of  the  mastex- 
pieces  of  Corneille  and  Racine.  And  yet,  as  my  friend  Sandeau 
vised  to  say  :  "  It  is  so  easy  not-to-write  a  tragedy  in  five  acts 
and  in  verse  !"  It  would  be  so  easy  to  spare  us  these  repetitions 
ad  nauseam  of  architectural  ornaments,  dictated  neither  by 
structniral  form  nor  respected  tradition.  What  meaning  have 
those  classic  symbols,  those  worn-out  insignia  on  a  building  ? 
What  meanuig  have  Greek  miisks  and  lyres  on  the  walls  of  a 
theatre  where  neither  lyres  nor  masks  are  used  ?  What  mean- 
ing have  Roman  trophies  with  Lebrun's  improvements  on  palaces 
whose  doorways  are  guarded  by  soldiers  armed  with  Chassepot 
rifles  ?  But  it  is  needless  to  enlarge  :  these  worn-out  common- 
places have  scarcely  any  interest  except  for  carvers,  and  impart 
no  real  value  to  an  architectural  work;  and  yet  how  few  architects 
there  are  who  have  the  courage  to  abstain  from  these  vulgar 
superpositions,  which,  apart  from  their  senseless  character,  are 
no  credit  to  the  imaginative  powers  of  the  designer,  and  have  no 
attraction  for  the  public.  Accordingly  when  an  architect  mani- 
fests sufiicient  ability  and  good  sense  to  emancipate  himself  from 


202  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

this  tliraldoui,  we  cannot  too  heartily  congratulate  and  praise 
him,  or  too  strongly  commend  him  to  the  waning  attention 
of  a  not  unnaturally  sceptical  public'  However  noble  the 
materials  employed,  the  decorative  method  now  in  vogue  ;dways 
reminds  one  of  the  moulded  plaster  or  composition  ornaments 
lavished  on  cheap  showy  buildings.  What  advantage  is  there 
in  cuttmg  an  ornament  m  solid  stone  if  it  looks  exactly  like 
one  that  is  moulded  and  stuck  on  ?  And  what  merit  is 
there  in  employing  costly  materials  for  an  ornamentation  that 
may  next  day  be  reproduced  in  plaster  on  the  front  of  a  neigh- 
bouring gin-shop  ?  True  richness  is  that  which  beneath  an 
appearance  of  simplicity  exhibits  elegancies  that  are  not  to  be 
imitated  by  cheap  means.  It  corresponds  to  that  which  in 
society  the  French  call  distinction — a  manner  marked  by  good 
sense,  discretion,  and  unaffected  simplicity,  and  which  is  natural 
to  some,  independently  of  wealth  or  rank. 

One  of  the  charms  of  good  architecture  consists  in  a  close 
relationship  between  the  external  and  mternal  ornamentation. 
The  external  ornamentation  should  prepare  the  spectator  for  and 
prefigure  to  liim  that  which  he  will  find  within.  It  is  not  the 
part  of  arcliitecture  to  surprise.  Besides,  the  architect  should 
not  give  promise  on  the  outside  of  more  than  he  can  perform. 
When  he  has  lavished  every  species  of  oi'namentation  in  the 
front,  what  will  he  have  remaining  to  show  inside  ?  In  this 
respect  again  we  may  learn  something  from  the  nations  of  the 
East.  Exteriorly  their  buildings  afiect  great  relative  simjihcity, 
and  the  architecture  becomes  richer  and  more  elegant  the  farther 
we  penetrate  into  the  interior — a  kind  of  legitimate  coquetry,  as 
we  might  term  it,  and  one  that  never  fails  to  be  seductive. 
They  are  skilful  in  making  transitions, — in  gi'adually  leading  the 
spectator's  gaze  to  the  culminating  splendour,  so  that  one  never 
feels  a  desire  to  go  back.  In  ornamentation,  nothing  is  more 
fatal  to  effect  than  a  too  pompous  prelude — an  over-presump- 
tuous  promise.  It  is  of  the  same  order,  and  leads  to  a  similar 
unfortunate  result,  as  the  bombastic  prologue  of  the  ^joet.  To 
give  more  than  one  seemed  to  promise  is  the  true  way  to  engage 
and  retain  the  attention  of  the  listener  and  the  gazer.  At  the 
same  time  the  prelude  should  be  in  direct  accordance  with  the 
body  of  the  discourse, — it  should  prepare  for  and  lead  up  to  the 
chief  point  of  interest.     The  best  means  for  attaining  this  end  is 

1  Some  few  of  our  Paris  buildings  are  iudeed  free  from  this  vulgarity.  Among  others 
may  be  cited  one  of  the  most  remarkable  :  the  new  part  of  the  Palais  de  Justice,  whose 
ornamentation  is  integral  with  the  structure,  accentuates  it  even,  and  hence  is  not 
wanting  in  dignity  or  originality.  The  Salle  des  Pas  Perdus,  both  within  and  without,  is 
one  of  the  buildings  that  will  do  honour  to  our  age.  Here  everything  is  in  keeping  ;  one 
clear  idea  runs  through  and  connects  the  whole.  As  always  happeus  in  such  cases,  the 
execution  is  worthy  of  the  design  ;  it  is  good  and  carefuL  Everything  testifies  to  an  artist 
who  respects  his  art  and  the  public,  and  such  are  not  commonly  met  with  in  our  day. 


LECTURE  XV.  203 

to  be  truthful,: — to  adapt  the  ornamentation  to  the  requirements 
of  the  case.  As  before  observed,  there  is  in  every  edifice  one 
part  of  special  interest  ;  and  this  would  not  be  on  the  outside, 
for  I  cannot  suppose  that  buildings  are  erected  only  to  be  seen 
from  the  street.  We  shall  therefore  so  dispose  our  means  as  to 
concentrate  the  interest — the  decorative  effect — on  that  special 
part.  In  a  palace  it  would  be  the  audience  chambers ;  hi  a 
theatre,  the  hall  and  the  boxes  ;  m  a  church,  the  chancel ;  in  a 
town-hall,  the  assembly-room ;  in  a  court  of  justice,  the  law 
courts ;  in  a  mansion,  the  reception-room.  From  the  ovitside  to 
the  interior,  therefore,  the  mtroduction  should  be  gradual,  and 
there  should  be  nothuig  to  make  peojjle  inclined  to  stay  m  a 
lobby  or  on  a  flight  of  stairs.  It  is  not  much  to  the  architectural 
credit  of  a  building  that  the  recej^tion-rooms  should  be  accounted 
dull  or  bare-looking,  but  the  stahcases  magnificent ;  probably 
those  interior  rooms  appear  uninteresting  in  great  measure 
because  those  staircases  promised  too  much. 

It  must  be  acknowledged  that  in  most  of  our  modem 
buildings  the  ornamentation  is  redundant  when  it  should  be 
scanty,  and  scanty  when  it  shoLild  abomid.  The  fronts  are  over- 
laid with  decorations  ;  surprising  ornamental  effects  are  sought 
for  in  the  designs  for  the  lobbies  and  staircases  ;  and  all  this 
display  by  way  of  introduction  to  rooms  that  are  comparatively 
mean  of  aspect.  The  visitor  sees  fronts  embellished  by  lofty 
columns,  passes  beneath  stately  peristyles,  ascends  flights  of 
stairs  of  magical  effect  covered  by  domes  enriched  with  carvings  ; 
and  after  this  imj^osing  introduction,  which  gives  promise  of 
halls  rivalling  those  of  the  hotels  Lambert,  de  Maine,  or  Mazarin,. 
or  of  the  Farnese  palace,  what  do  you  in  reality  find  ?  Rooms 
that  are  very  commonplace  m  the  general  design,  but  overloaded 
with  gilded  stucco-work,  sham  wood-carvmg,  mean  paper-hang- 
ings and  vulgar  upholstery.  Less  pompous  display  on  the  out- 
side, and  more  dignity  and  real  richness  within  woidd  appear 
more  rational, — more  in  conformity  with  the  principles  of  true 
ornamentation. 

But  what  shall  we  say  of  those  pretentious  classic  orders,  over- 
spreading the  upper  stories  of  our  city  houses, — pilasters,  which 
rest  on  wooden  shop-fronts  ?  How  ridiculous  this  inappropriate 
decoration  will  appear,  when,  sooner  or  later,  the  public  taste 
shall  revert  to  simpler  and  more  sensible,  forms,  after  so  much 
profuse  extravagance  ;  when  the  time  shall  arrive  for  restormg 
harmony  between  the  character  of  oui'  architecture  and  the 
manners  of  the  times.  What  sense  is  there  in  ornamenting  the 
exteriors  of  mere  lodging-houses  more  richly  than  the  mansions 
of  the  great  nobles  in  the  seventeenth  century  ?  Is  it  not  the 
most  egregious  vanity — covering  walls  and  window-fi-ames  with 


204  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

ornament  while  the  closely-packed  families  within  are  suffering 
every  kind  of  discomfort  in  rooms  whose  scanty  dimensions 
scarcely  afford  room  for  a  crib  and  a  chair  ? 

In  the  style  of  architecture  adopted  in  the  public  edifices  and 
mansions  of  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries,  there  was 
a  certam  harmony  with  the  manners  of  the  times.  At  that  time, 
all — the  great  in  particular — sacrificed  the  comforts  of  life  to 
outward  grandeur.  Without  were  spacious  courts  and  grandly 
ornamented  fagades ;  within,  magnificent  vestibules,  noble  stair- 
cases, and  vast  saloons  ;  but  this  imposing  display  was  obtained 
at  the  expense  of  comfort.  The  bedrooms  were  generally  small 
and  close,  constructed  in  entresols  ;  and  the  passages  and  back 
staircases  narrow  and  steep.  The  servants  were  huddled 
together  in  wretched  garrets  beneath  the  roofs.  Except  in  the 
state-rooms  there  was  nothing  like  convenience  or  comfort. 
This  was  in  conformity  with  the  habits  of  the  times,  and 
no  one  complained.  But  in  a  democratised  age  imitations  of 
a  departed  and  little  regretted  aristocratic  state  and  splendour 
are  so  much  the  more  ridiculous  as  being  merely  superficial 
and  confined  to  external  appearances.  The  manners  of  the  times 
run  counter  to  this  superannuated  art,  and  in  adapting  our 
habits  of  comfort  to  this  external  grandeur,  truth  has  to  be  con- 
travened in  the  strangest  ways.  In  private  dwellings  we  may 
still  to  a  certain  extent  reconcile  the  arrangements  dictated  by 
necessity  with  the  decorative  display  of  the  street  front.  Their 
stories  are  divided,  and  their  windows  disposed  in  accordance 
with  the  dictates  of  commercial  speculation,  in  despite  of  classic 
orders  and  symmetrical  graiideur ;  but  in  the  case  of  public 
edifices  it  is  otherwise.  Here  commercial  speculation  does  not 
intervene  ;  there  is  no  question  of  a  profitable  return,  and  con- 
sequently we  have  imposing  fronts  concealing  interior  arrange- 
ments utterly  at  variance  with  those  they  appear  to  enclose. 
We  have  one  design  for  the  passer-by,  another  for  the  occupant; 
and  if  an  architect  should  ever  have  occasion  to  draw  the  plans 
and  elevations  of  one  of  these  princely  dwellings,  he  will  have  a 
difficult  task  to  make  them  agree.  This  window  which  he  has 
sketched  in  the  elevation  will  have  nothing  m  the  interior  to 
correspond  with  it ;  what  to  the  passer-by  appears  a  squai^e 
window  will  be  an  arched  one  to  the  occupant ;  in  fact,  he  will 
find  a  double  case  in  the  building, — one  for  outward  show,  the 
other  to  suit  the  interior  arrangements.  What  becomes  of 
architectural  ornamentation  in  this  costly  farrago  ?  Like  the 
structure,  it  is  double,  that  of  the  exterior  having  no  kind  of 
relation  to  that  of  the  interior.  To  these  observations,  the 
justice  of  which  all  may  perceive,  many  reply  :  "  What  does 
that  matter  to  us  ?  provided  the  building  is  beautiful   outside 


LECTURE  XV.  205 

and  Ijeaiitiful  inside,  it  does  not  seem  necessary  that  the  two 
beauties  should  accord.  What  we  want  is  an  ediiice  which  shall 
appear  splendid,  imposing,  symmetrical  and  perfect  to  passers-by, 
while  at  the  same  time  we  are  comfortably  housed,  and  find 
within  a  profusion  of  luxurious  adornment.  We  ourselves  are 
not  occupied  with  looking  at  the  facades  that  ai'e  erected  to 
attract  the  gaze  of  the  vulgar  ;  we  live  behind  these  fa9ades  and 
have  our  taste  and  luxuiy  apart."  That  people  who  have  no  con- 
cern with  art  should  speak  thus  is  not  surj^rising,  but  that  archi- 
tects should  lend  themselves  to  such  singidar  conditions,  and, 
while  doing  so,  still  consider  themselves  architects,  is  more  diffi- 
cult to  conceive  ;  for  if  there  is  one  thing  worthy  of  the  architect's 
best  considerations,  it  is  the  perfect  agreement  between  all  the 
parts  of  his  building,  that  corresj)ondence  between  the  case  and 
what  it  contains, — the  frank  exj^ression  outside  of  the  arrange- 
ments within,  not  only  in  point  of  structure,  but  of  ornamenta- 
tion, which  ought  to  be  in  close  alhance  with  it.  We  observe  a 
doctor  of  medicine  setting  himself  up  for  an  arcliitect  m  Louis 
XIV. 's  time,  and  erectmg  the  colonnade  of  the  Louvre  as  a  mere 
ornament,  without  thinking  what  he  was  going  to  jDut  beliiud  that 
imj^osmg  screen.  In  fact  he  put  nothing,  and  his  successors 
were  sadly  embarrassed  to  know  what  to  put  that  would  be  of 
any  use.  We  are  not  to  suppose  that  the  most  enthusiastic 
lovers  of  the  architecture  of  the  grand  siecle  have  felt  more  than 
a  Platonic  admiration  for  this  front,  or  have  attempted  to 
exj^lain  the  meaning  of  this  plaything  in  stone.  But  are  caprices 
of  the  kind  congenial  to  our  times  ?  Are  they  acceptable  to  a 
pubhc  which  sooner  or  later  asks  the  pm-pose  for  which  this 
or  that  building  was  erected  ?  That  buildings  shoidd  be 
splendid  is  all  very  well ;  but  at  least  let  them  be  sensible  and 
not  designed  chiefly  for  mere  external  show  ;  for  that  public 
which  is  good-natured  sometimes,  an-d  which  for  a  long  time  has 
accepted — I  recall  the  term — tolerated  a  certain  style  of  archi- 
tectiu'e  which  is  loftily  proclaimed  the  glory  of  French  art,  one 
day  may  assert  that  it  is  not  rich  enough  to  pay  for  this  glory. 
Our  young  architects  will  do  well  to  anticipate  this  change 
of  feeling,  and  may  rely  upon  it  that  it  is  not  taste  based  on 
reason  that  provokes  reaction,  but  ostentatious  luxury,  obtru- 
sive wealth,  that  makes  a  useless  j^arade  of  itself.  The 
architecture  suited  to  our  times  is  not  an  art  that  is  a  mere 
luxury,  for  the  delectation  of  a  few  amateurs — a  select  portion 
of  society  ;  it  must  be  an  art  which  belongs  to  all,  since  in  the 
case  of  pubhc  buildings  it  is  paid  for  by  all.  It  shoiJd  therefore 
conform  to  the  manners  and  habits  not  of  a  coterie, — not  of  a 
pubhc,  but  of  tlte  j^ublic.  Let  us  then,  while  didy  admiring — as 
we  may  do — the  ostentatious  splendours  of  Roman  architectm-e 


20G  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

or  of  that  of  llie  time  of  Louis  XIV.,  cease  to  reproduce  them  ;  and 
endeavour,  not  to  impoverish,  despoil,  and  humihate  ourselves, 
— which  is  unbecoming  a  great  country, — but  to  gain  respect 
by  a  display  of  taste,  thought  and  good  sense,  rather  than  by  an 
unjustifiable  abuse  of  wealth.  To  bring  the  ornamentation  of  our 
l)uildings  into  accord  with  the  sterling  qualities  of  our  national 
character,  which  is  opposed  to  exaggeration  and  want  of  projwr- 
tion,  is  a  noble  problem,  to  the  working  out  of  which  the  rising 
generation  of  architects  should  devote  their  best  powers.  It  is 
the  careful  thinking-out  of  the  problem  which  can  alone  give 
birth  to  the  architecture  of  the  future  ;  not  the  servile  imitation 
and  undigested  minghng  of  features  borrowed  from  previous 
times  and  previous  styles  of  architecture. 

There  is  an  influence  altogether  modern  which  must  neces- 
sarily be  taken  into  account :  it  is  criticism,  not  the  criticism  of 
the  partisan,  envious  and  destructive — of  this  we  shoidd  take 
no  heed — but  the  criticism  which  ajipertains  to  the  spirit  of  the 
age,  favouring  careful  investigation  and  based  on  reason.  This 
spirit  of  mvestigation  which  in  science  discards  hypotheses  and 
systems  founded  on  a  jyriori  reasoning,  and  requires  proofs  leased 
on  experience  and  observation,  is  tending  to  penetrate  into  the 
domain  of  art,  especially  when  art  is  connected  with  science.  Our 
days,  and  ours  alone,  have  witnessed  the  application  of  the  novel 
critical  method  to  the  study  of  the  past  in  the  material,  as  well 
as  in  the  immaterial  sphere.  This  method  is  not  satisfied  with 
conjectures,  however  ingenious,  or  opinions  based  on  an  impx-ession 
or  a  sentunent ;  it  requires  proofs  logically  deduced.  To  ignore 
this  tendency  of  the  age  is  not  to  argue  against  the  method ;  it 
is  simply  to  give  proof  of  ignorance.  But  though  in  former  ages 
it  may  have  been  permitted  to  consider  the  architectural  remains 
of  extinct  civihsations,  merely  in  reference  to  the  forms  and 
appearance,  without  regarding  the  causes  that  had  produced 
those  forms,  this  is  not  admissible  in  the  present  day.  It  is  the 
same  with  History  :  a  writer  who  should  attempt  to  review  the 
various  forms  of  government,  adopted  by  past  civilisations  without 
investigating  the  causes  which  among  some  produced  theocracies 
or  monarchies,  among-  others  oligarchic  or  democratic  republics, 
would  be  considered  at  best  a  mere  chronicler  not  a  historian. 
From  the  tendency  of  the  spirit  of  the  age,  it  results  that  in 
practical  modem  politics  the  analytical  knowledge  of  the  past, 
the  philosophy  of  history,  becomes  necessary,  since  it  is  con- 
tinually appealed  to  in  discussion.  The  last  century  had  already 
introduced  the  critical  method  with  the  study  of  history  : 
Montesquieu^    and    even    Voltaire"    were    not    content    with 

'   Grandeur  et  Decadence  des  domains.     Esprit  des  Lois. 
2  Dictioniiaire  philosophique.     Essai  sur  lea  Lois. 


LECTURE  XV.  207 

narratiug ;  they  sought  to  compare,  to  appreciate,  to  draw 
deductions,  which,  when  based  on  careful  observation,  acquire 
the  form  of  axioms — of  fixed  kiws — in  regard  to  civilisation. 
The  same  phenomenon  next  presented  itself  in  the  study  of  the 
sciences.  But  in  this  respect  the  arts  lagged  behind,  and  with 
the  exception  of  a  few  miexplained  dogmatic  systems,  the 
critics  in  their  appreciation  of  architectural  works  were  scarcely 
influenced  by  anything  more  than  individual  liking  or  the 
instinctive  tastes  of  the  society  amid  which  they  lived.  Winckel- 
mann  in  Germany  was  the  first  who  attempted  to  apply  critical 
methods  to  Classic  art.  And  though  the  scope  of  his  investiga- 
tions was  very  Imiited,  the  result  of  his  endeavours  was  to  strike 
a  blow  at  empirical  procedure.  There  arose  a  desii'e  to  discover 
in  the  monuments  of  antiquity  something  more  than  the  outer 
forms.  But  our  French  architects  were  not  easily  induced  to 
adopt  critical  methods.  Confiding  in  their  ability,  there  were 
many  who  clung  to  the  belief  that  ignorance  of  eveiything  not 
professional  was  an  essential  characteristic  of  talent.  When 
young,  I  had  fellow-students  in  architecture  who  piqued  them- 
selves on  not  being  readers.  And  in  foct  they  knew  nothing 
besides  how  to  ink-in  a  plan  or  colour-up  an  elevation,  and  the 
little  that  was  then  taught  in  the  School.  Since  then,  however, 
things  have  somewhat  changed. 

The  study  of  the  arts  of  past  times,  and  especially  of  archi- 
tecture, caused  no  little  consternation  in  the  numerous  band  of 
architects  whose  library  consisted  of  Perrault's  translation  of 
Vitruvius,  a  Vignole,  a  Palladio,  Rondelet's  Construction,  and 
Perier  and  Fontaine's  Palais  de  Rome.  The  most  active-minded 
hastened  to  fill  up  their  bookshelves  with  everything  that  was 
published,  good  or  indifierent.  The  result  was  that  all  these 
examples  of  architectLural  forms,  compiled  at  hazard  without 
method,  added,  as  it  were,  a  prodigious  number  of  words  to  the 
vocabidary  of  persons  who  were  unacquainted  with  their  meaning, 
and  who  knew  nothing  of  syntax  and  grammar.  The  jargon  that 
ensued  may  be  imagined.  The  venerable  conservators  of  the 
bases  of  good  architectuj-e  beheld  with  dismay  this  invasion  of 
documents  gathered  fi-om  every  quarter,  and  uttered  anathemas 
against  what  they  tei-med  "archaeology"  encroaching  on  Art. 
They  were  not  entrrely  wrong.  But  the  thing  to  be  deplored  is 
the  persistence  of  the  belief  that  the  study  of  the  past  is  in- 
jurious now  that  we  can  apply  analytical  methods  to  architecture 
as  we  do  to  the  sciences. 

This  study — of  course  supposing  it  does  not  stop  short  at  the 
forms,  but  investigates  the  causes  and  principles, — supposing  it 
not  to  be  exclusive  or  prejudiced  a  priori — soon  enables  us  to  dis- 
tinguish among  examjjles  of  architecture  those  which  are  original 


208  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

from  such  as  are  only  more  or  less  successful  plagiarisms ;  to 
classify  the  examples  that  have  resulted  from  an  unbroken  course 
of  logical  deduction  ;  to  detect  the  principles  common  to  certain 
civilisations,  and  thus  found  rviles  not  on  the  aj^plication  of  such 
or  such  a  form  of  art ;  but  on  immutable  reason.  I  grant  that 
this  is  a  labour  of  greater  complication  than  the  system  in  vogue 
thirty  years  ago,  and  which  consisted  in  applying  certain  forms 
of  art  without  considering  the  reasons  which  oi'iginated  them ; 
but  it  is  a  procedure  that  will  have  to  be  employed,  because  it 
will  be  dictated  by  serious  criticism  (and  it  will  not  be  long 
before  serious  criticism  will  make  its  appearance),  when  the  ciitic, 
better  enlightened  respectmg  the  essential  conditions  of  archi- 
tecture, will  ask  the  architect :  ' '  Why  are  Classic  columns  that 
are  made  to  rest  on  a  socle,  raised  on  the  first  floor  of  a  building  ? 
Why  are  these  columns,  wliich  moreover  serve  no  purpose  smce 
they  only  support  themselves,  divided  by  two  stories  ?  Why  are 
these  window-oj^enings  made  so  high,  since  you  have  to  divide 
them  by  a  floor  ?  Why  this  imitation  of  a  small  Italian 
palace-front  stuck  against  an  enormous  building  containing 
notliing  but  vast  halls  ?  Why  are  superposed  columns  forming 
buttresses  set  against  a  thick  wall  that  only  supports  ceilings 
having  no  outwai'd  thrust  ?  Why  this  reproduction,  on  a  new 
building  erected  all  at  one  time,  of  a  front  which  is  the  produc- 
tion of  dififerent  periods  and  various  requirements  ?  Why  two 
campaniles  and  two  clock-faces  on  the  same  front  of  a  building 
and  only  two  yards  apart  ?  Symmetry,  do  you  say  ?  But  where 
is  this  symmetry  to  stop  ?  and  m  what  way  does  it  constitute 
art  ?  Why  build  porticos  where  no  one  passes  or  can  pass,  since 
they  lead  nowhere,  and  which  darken  a  useful  ground-floor 
and  entresol  ?  Why  erect  buildings  of  such  a  width  transversely 
that  you  cannot  Hght  the  central  part?  To  these  and  many 
similar  questions,  which  a  serious  critic  might  put  to  an  archi- 
tect in  many  cases,  will  it  be  suflacient  to  reply  that  the  critic 
is  an  archaeologist,  exclusive  or  enthusiastic  ?  For  wherein  hes 
the  archaeology,  the  exclusiveness,  or  the  enthusiasm  1  Youthful 
architects  will  do  wisely  to  anticipate  the  day  which  is  not  far 
distant,  when  their  works  will  be  brouglit  before  the  tribunal  of 
a  criticism,  which  is  not  archseological,  exclusive,  or  enthusiastic, 
but  which  simply  demands  the  reason  of  things.  They  will  do 
wisely  to  prepare  themselves  for  that  judgment  by  studies  that 
are  in  accordance  with  the  modern  methodical  spirit,  and  by 
works  in  which  the  outward  form  never  contravenes  the  dictates 
of  reason,  and  the  correct  and  judicious  apj^reciation  of  the 
requirements  of  the  times  in  which  we  live. 


LECTUllE    XVI. 


ON  MONUMENTAL  SCULPTURE. 


NEVER,  I  imagine,  was  architectui'e  an  art  easy  of  execution. 
The  very  fact  that  arcliitecture  is  a  combication  of  various 
arts  causes  an  accumulation  of  difficulties  when  we  have  to 
compose,  and  proceed  to  the  execution  of  this  complex  whole,  so 
as  to  satisfy  all  requirements.  These  difficulties  are  insurmount- 
able if  the  combination  cannot  be  guided  by  one  presiding  intel- 
ligence,— if  each  artist  who  is  called  to  contribute  his  share 
conceives  and  executes  independently.  We  should  not  therefore 
be  astonished,  nor  should  we  blame  the  ai-chitects  alone,  if  most 
of  our  buUdings  present  only  agglomerations  of  art  products, 
not  works  of  art.  When  we  consider  how  matters  are  manafired 
— in  our  day  still  more  than  formerly — when  a  buUding  has  to 
be  erected,  the  wonder  Ls  that  there  is  not  even  more  confusion 
than  actually  prevails  in  the  heaps  of  objects  of  all  kinds  which 
are  complimented  ^vith  the  title  of  public  edifices.  Scidpture, 
which  once  bore  a  sisterly  relation  to  architecture,  tends  to 
become  more  and  more  estranged  from  it,  and  sometimes  even 
hostUe  to  it ;  it  insists  upon  choosing  its  own  place  as  it  woiild 
in  an  Exhibition  or  a  Museum.  What  it  desu-es  is  to  be  seen, 
and  that  there  may  be  nothing  in  its  neighbourhood  to  distract 
the  spectator.  And  not  only  does  this  sculptor  wish  to  be 
conspicuous  himself,  but  he  wishes  to  throw  into  the  shade 
another  who  is  engaged  in  a  theme  side  by  side  with  his  own. 
A  very  desirable  competition  this,  if  they  were  producing  works 
destined  to  be  displayed  in  a  public  exhibition,  but  disastrous 
when  occurring  in  works  intended  to  compose  a  united  whole. 
Should  the  architect  then, — it  will  be  objected, — presume  to 
direct  the  sculptor, — to  fetter  his  genius  by  certain  formularies 
he  may  please  to  dictate,  to  make  the  statuary  a  mere  workman, 
a  mere  cutter-out  of  images,  whose  composition  he  is  to  deter- 
mine ?  It  is  no  slight  privilege,- — and  sculptors  are  not  sparing 
in  their  complaints  on  this  score,— that  the  architect  should  have 
the  right  of  assigning  such  or  such  a  place,  defining  such  or 
such  limits,  dictating  such  or  such  degrees  of  projection,  and 

VOL.  IL  0 


210  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

such  or.  such  a  scale.  Is  not  the  sculptor's  art  at  least  equal 
In  dignity  with  that  of  the  architect  ?  Why  should  the  former 
be  subjected  to  the  latter  ?  Such  an  anomaly  might  be  expected 
in  those  barbarous  ages  from  which  we  are  far  removed,  when 
the  name  of  artist  was  unknown,  and  when  the  loftiest  positions 
in  the  arts  were  occupied  by  mere  artisans.  ...  I  know — every- 
body knows — what  may  be  urged  on  this  score ;  the  name  is  a 
matter  of  indifference ;  the  workman  who  sculptured  statues  I 
could  name  at  Rheims  or  Chartres,  possessed  in  my  opinion  talents 
equal  to  those  of  many  of  our  modern  artists.  But  was  he  as 
independent  and  free  in  the  expression  of  his  talent?  We  may 
suppose  so ;  only  he  did  not  endeavour  to  produce  a  discord  in 
the  concert  in  which  he  was  called  to  take  part,  and  did  not 
suppose  that  his  merit  could  be  enhanced  by  eclipsing  his 
environment. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  I  wish  in  any  degree  to 
detract  from  the  real  merit  of  our  statuaries,  for  the  amount  of 
talent  represented  by  their  works  is  very  considerable.  Few 
periods  of  art  in  modern  tunes  have  produced  so  large  a  number 
of  very  good  works,  and  it  needs  no  great  discernment  to  per- 
ceive that  the  sculptor's  art  has  reached  a  higher'  level  since 
the  beginning  of  the  century ;  but  it  must  be  acknowledged 
that,  in  rising,  it  has  become  more  and  more  at  variance  with 
the  sister  art  of  architecture,  so  that  we  may  regard  the  time  as 
not  distant  when  they  must  part  company.  What  then  is  the 
cause  of  this  want  of  harmony  ?  This  is  what  we  are  concerned 
to  investigate. 

In  regions  where  the  plastic  arts  were  subjected  to  hieratic 
formulas,  as  in  Egypt  for  example,  these  ai-ts  moved  only  within 
certain  narrow  hmits  which  it  was  forbidden  them  to  transgi-ess. 
The  harmony  established  between  their  relations  could  not  be 
disturbed  by  the  innovations  of  a  man  of  genius.  The  functions 
of  architecture,  sculptiu'e,  and  painting,  defined,  I  may  say,  from 
the  very  commencement,  were  exercised  under  a  kind  of  rigorous 
archaic  control,  and  the  pre-established  harmony  was  such  that 
it  is  difficult  to  say,  on  seeing  an  Egyptian  building  of  the  best 
period,  where  the  expressions  of  these  three  arts,  wliich  are  so 
intimately  associated,  severally  begin  and  end.  How  and  by 
what  efforts  of  genius  had  this  intimate  union  been  first 
established  ?  This  I  shall  not  endeavour  to  explain.  I  wiU 
take  the  fact  simply  as  it  stands.  Its  consequences  are  such, 
even  in  the  view  of  the  least  intelligent  observer,  that  the 
monuments  of  Egypt  are  not  only  distinguished  from  all  others, 
but  exhibit  a  stamp  of  unity  so  complete  that  architecture  of 
any  other  order,  even  the  most  perfect  in  its  kind,  seems  to  want 
cohesion  when  compared  with  that  of  Egypt.     Roman  buildings 


LECTURE  XVI.  211 

themselves,*  however  concrete,  solidly  built,  and  well  balanced, 
seem  to  be  wanting  in  vigour  and  unity  by  tlie  side  of  the  least 
important   of   tlie   Egyptian   monuments    of   the    best   period. 
The  reason  is  that  in  the  Egyptian  building,  while  the  construc- 
tion  gives   the  idea  of  stabiHty  and  strength,    because    it   is 
suggested  by  a  principle  which  is  the  simplest  and  the  most 
easy  to  conceive,  the  intimate  union  of  the  arts  of  sculpture  and 
painting  with  the  form  adopted  by  the  architect,  concentrates 
the  attention  of  the  spectator  on  the  absolute  unity  of  the  whole, 
instead  of  turning  it  away.     The  colossal  statues  that  flank  the 
openmg  m  a  pylon  exhibit  in  their  composition  the  appearance 
of  buttresses.     The  caryatides,  standmg  against  the  piers  of  the 
jiortico,  make  a  part  of  these  pillars  in  virtue  of  their  form  and 
the  monumental  mamier  in  which  they  are  treated.     If  historic 
sculpture  occurs  on  the  walls,  it  assimilates  with  the  structure  ; 
it  presents  a  kind  of  tapestry  which  covers  it  without  altering 
its  surface.     Although  minutely  careful  m  the  execution  of  his 
work,  and  though  he  observes  nature  with  a  rare  subtlety  of 
penetration,  the  Egyj^tian  sculptor  makes  considerable  sacrifices 
to  the  monumental  principle.    He  is  marvellously  well  acquainted 
with  the  form  he  is  rendering,  but  he  takes  good  care  not  to 
express  all  its  details,  and  contents  himself  with  a  liberal  and 
simple  though  always  true  interpretation,  notwithstanding  the 
archaic  appearance  which  he  gives  to  that  fomi.     This  absolute 
harmony  between  the  sculpture  and  the  architecture  causes  all 
other  buildings  when  compared  with  Egyptian  art  to  present 
an  appearance  of  pieces  of  furniture,  and  involuntarily  recalls  our 
attention  to  this  powerful  and  unique  expression  of  the  intimate 
union  of  the  three  arts.      Do  we  then  recommend  an  imitation 
of  the  monuments  of  Egypt  along  our  own  streets  !     Certainly 
not :  but  however  remote  Egyptian  art  may  be  from  our  own 
times  and  customs,  we  may  find  instruction   in  it,  if  we   are 
willing  to  preserve  in  the  various  expressions  of  art  in  general 
somethmg  more  than  the  apparent  form, — if  we  seek  in  them 
the    generating    pi'inciple,    the    reason    of    that    diversity    of 
expression.     The  leading  characteristic  of  the  sculpture  applied 
to    Egyptian   architecture,    we    cannot   too   frequently   repeat, 
is  its  intimate  union  with  the  forms  of  that  architecture, — its 
participation  in  those  forms.     Whether  the  statuary  is  colossal 
or  on  a  very  small  scale,  it  never,  in  the  former  case,  disturbs 
the  dominant  lines  of  the  building,  nor  in  the  latter  case  appears 
mean   or   detrimental    to  the   grandeur   of  the    whole.       This 
appears  simple  enough  when  we  see  those  monuments  of  the 

'  Here,  aa  in  all  other  references,  it  must  be  understood  that  in  speaking  of  Roman 
buildings,  those  of  genuine  Roman  structure  are  intended,  and  not  the  false  imitations  of 
Greek  art  introduced  under  the  Empire. 


212  LECTURES  ON  ARCIIITECTURE. 

shores  of  the  Nile  ;  it  might  be  supposed  that  this  so  pei-fect 
result  cost  no  effort  ;  it  is,  in  fact,  the  peculiarity  of  complete 
works  of  art,  not  to  suggest  to  the  spectator  any  idea  of  effort 
or  study  :  but  to  him  who  knows  how  much  knowledge  and 
intellectual  labour  are  required  for  every  product  of  art  which 
can  attract  and  retain  our  attention  without  troubling  the 
intellect,  the  architecture  of  Egypt  in  its  best  period  will  cer- 
tainly seem  the  most  perfectly  correct  on  the  face  of  the  globe. 
It  must  be  allowed  indeed  that  such  a  result  could  be  much 
more  easily  obtained  with  simple  necessities  such  as  those 
which  Eg\"]3tian  civilisation  presented  than  with  the  complicated 
ones  furnished  by  such  a  civilisation  as  ours.  The  principle 
however  is  applicable  everywhere.  The  artist  is  always  free  to 
make  use  of  natm-e  without  servilely  copying  it,  and  to  subject 
the  composition  and  the  execution  of  the  sculjature  to  the 
monumental  idea.  I  am  far  from  blaming  the  institution  of 
Museums,  which  so  greatly  further  the  preservation  of  works  of 
art  and  the  instruction  of  artists  :  but  it  cannot  be  denied  that 
Museums  tend  to  obliterate  from  the  artist's  mind,  unless  he  is 
richly  endowed  with  genius,  and  has  a  well-developed  critical 
faculty,  that  idea  of  the  intimate  union  of  the  arts,  which  is  one 
of  the  prominent  characteristics  of  the  best  periods  of  art.  The 
contemplation  of  isolated  masteiijieces  may  certainly  contribute 
to  the  production  of  fi'esh  masterpieces,  also  isolated,  but  tliey 
do  not  suggest  those  broad  and  comprehensive  ideas  which  are  so 
necessary  to  architecture,  and  to  those  who  are  called  on  to  lend 
their  aid  in  givmg  it  expression.  In  a  still  greater  degree  these 
Museums  tend  to  distract  the  attention  and  taste  of  the  public, 
which  soon  acquires  the  notion  that  to  become  a  connoisseur  in 
art  it  suffices  to  have  examined  with  some  degree  of  care  a  few 
fragments  taken  from  ancient  monuments,  without  the  power 
of  restoring  them  to  their  proper  place,  even  in  thought.  To 
become  really  instructive,  to  be  something  more  than  a  mere 
show-room  of  archajological  curiosities,  more  or  less  duly 
classified,  or  of  fragmentary  chefs-d'osuvre,  Museums  should 
exhibit  along  with  these  remains  the  complete  works  from  which 
they  are  taken,  were  it  only  in  drawings,  and  with  cataJogucs 
raisonn6s.  But  in  these  matters  eveiything  remains  to  be  done, 
and  many  prejudices  have  to  be  got  rid  of.  Our  neighbours  in 
England  have  already  attempted  something  of  the  kind,  but  our 
singular  vanity  rather  tlian  any  want  of  resources  stands  in  the 
way.  Confiding  in  our  readiness  of  apprehension  and  natural 
taste,  we  think  we  have  supplied  all  that  art  requires  if  we  have 
exhibited  a  beautiful  picture  or  a  fine  piece  of  sculpture  ;  but  we 
scarcely  care  to  inquire  what  place  shall  be  found  for  the  paint- 
ing or  the  statue.     It  was  not  thus  however  that  the  Greeks 


LECTURE  XVI.  213 

proceeded  during  the  best  period  of  tlieir  art,  when  they  had 
not  begun  to  carve  and  paint  for  wealthy  lloman  amateurs,  but 
were  building  and  decorating  those  monuments  which  are 
among  their  glories.  Nor  was  it  thus  that  the  artists  of  the 
Middle  Ages  and  those  of  the  llenaissance  proceeded.  To 
speak  of  statuary  only, — the  habit  which  our  most  distinguished 
artists  have  acquired  of  working  independently  in  the  isolation 
of  their  studies,  that  sort  of  disdain  which  they  manifest  for  the 
arts  which  they  do  not  profess,  and  their  absolute  ignorance  of 
the  conditions  of  moniunental  art,  occasion  the  most  singular 
deceptions  on  their  own  part,  and  on  that  of  the  public  the 
severest  criticisms  when  they  are  called  on  to  contribute  to  the 
decoration  of  a  building.  Are  we  to  understand  then  that 
the  sculptors  consider  themselves  to  blame  for  the  disappoint- 
ments and  criticisms  thus  occasioned  ?  By  no  means  !  It  is 
always  the  fault  of  the  architect  or  of  a  competing  sculpture  in 
the  immediate  neighbourhood.  The  position  is  bad  ;  the  archi- 
tecture sjjoils  the  effect  of  the  statuary  by  its  mass,  arrangement, 
or  details;  or  the  rival  sculptor  has  endeavoured  to  "kill"  the  work 
that  competes  with  his  own.  It  must  indeed  be  acknowledged 
that  these  mishaps,  which  so  frequently  occur  in  the  present 
day,  are  in  some  measure  caused  by  the  architect.  In  adopting 
those  arrangements  which  furnish  the  artist  with  a  kind  t>f  frame 
or  pedestal  for  the  reception  of  the  piece  of  sculpture  regarded  as 
a  sort  of  addition,  the  latter  has  thought  simply  of  exhihifing  his 
work,  and  does  not  trouble  himself  about  a  general  effect  which  he 
does  not  understand,  and  which  is  not  explained  to  him  because, 
for  the  most  part,  it  is  not  provided  for,  and  he  is  not  consulted 
about  it.  It  is  true  I  never  saw  the  Greeks  at  work,  but  I  am 
persuaded  that  they  did  not  proceed  in  this  way  ;  indeed,  every- 
thing leads  me  to  believe  that  Ictinus  and  Phidias  worked  in 
combination.  And  yet,  notwithstanding  the  beauty  of  that 
Greek  architecture  at  its  culmination,  it  must  be  allowed  that  in 
the  buildings  which  have  remained  to  us  the  statuary  is  far 
from  presenting  that  monumental  combination  with  the  archi- 
tecture of  which  Egypt  presents  so  complete  a  type.  That  unity 
very  probably  existed  in  the  jirimitive  Doric  architecture,  e.g. 
in  that  basilica  of  Agrigentum,  known  as  the  Temple  of  the 
Giants,  and  m  other  buildings  of  an  archaic  character;  but  it  seems 
to  me  already  near  its  extinction  in  the  Parthenon,  if  not  as  re- 
gards the  execution  of  the  sculpture,  at  least  in  point  of  principle. 
In  fact,  in  monumental  statuary  two  conditions  must  be 
observed, — appropriate  design  in  reference  to  the  whole,  to  the 
general  scale  ;  and  also  execution,  which  shoidd  bear  a  relation  to 
the  style  adopted,  the  position  and  destination.  Now,  with  all 
due  respect  for  Phidias,  it  does  not  seem  as  if  the  subjects  repre- 


2 1  -1  LECTURES  OX  A  RCIUTECTURE. 

sented  iu  the  metopes  were  exactly  adapted  to  the  scale  of  the 
building  ;  and  those  figures  in  alto-relievo  must,  at  the  height  at 
which  they  are  placed,  have  appeared  paltry,  especially  on  the 
anterior  and  posterior  fronts,  that  is,  beneath  the  colossal  figures 
which  filled  the  tympanums.  But  if  we  look  at  the  execution, 
it  is  impossible  to  find  statuary  better  harmonising  with  the 
destination  and  the  place.  The  exquisite  delicacy  of  cei'tain 
details  does  not  injure  the  effect  of  the  mass,  which  is  always 
frankly  rendered  and  expressed.  One  may  pardon  an  artist 
such  as  Phidias,  who  probably  exhibited  some  of  the  figures  of 
the  tympanums  in  his  studio,  for  carrying  muiuteness  in  the 
execution  of  cei'tain  details  to  excess,  details  which  could  only  be 
seen  by  the  swallows,  if  this  minuteness  does  not  injuriously  affect 
the  simple  dignity  of  the  masses.  It  is  not  the  less  true  that 
in  this  elaboration,  designed  to  please  a  few  amateurs,  we  can 
already  trace  the  beginnings  of  an  abuse  Avhich  will  soon  manifest 
itself, — the  separation  of  the  two  arts,  architecture  and  statuary. 
When  the  ai-tist  works  with  the  view  of  satisfying  a  few 
cUIeftanti  he  is  approaching  decline,  he  is  losing  the  right  path  ; 
he  thinks  he  is  attaining  pei^fection  because  he  is  pleasing  a 
select  body  of  connoisseurs,  while  in  reality  he  is  deteriorating. 
Perfection  in  art  imphes  the  power  to  impress  all, — the  ignorant 
as  well  as  the  flxstidious.  When  the  scidptor's  art  is  limited  to 
the  gratification  of  the  taste  of  certain  privileged  persons,  of 
certain  distins'uished  amateurs,  it  has  lost  that  monumental 
signification  which  alone  can  stir  the  masses. 

Is  it  not  evident  also  that  statuary  must  have  a,  meaning  for 
all  if  it  would  produce  a  tolerably  profound  impression  ?  Among 
the  Greeks,  mythologic,  heroic,  or  historic  sculpture  represented 
something  which  had  a  very  vivid  interest  for  every  one. 
Similarly,  in  our  mediteval  monuments,  statuary  had  a  meaning 
perfectly  understood  by  all ;  it  was  a  means  of  instruction.  The 
iconography  of  our  great  northern  cathedrals  is  a  veritable 
encyclopfedia  instructing  the  multitude  through  the  eyes.  I 
admit  that  in  our  days  such  means  are  unavailing.  Allegory  is  a 
poor  resource, — a  frigid  enigma  which  very  few  take  the  trouble 
to  guess,  because  it  interests  no  one  and  answers  to  no  sentiment 
of  the  human  heart.  Personifications  of  qualities  or  abstractions 
— such  as  Peace,  War,  Abundance,  Commerce,  Art,  etc. — all  this 
is  too  abstract,  or  savours  too  much  of  puerile  metaphysics  to  in- 
terest any  one.  They  are  mere  pretexts  for  making  statues,  bas- 
reliefs,  or  groups,  in  which  no  one  sees  anything  but  a  more  or 
less  well-arranged  collection  of  figures, — academical  works  savour- 
ing of  the  studio,  which  do  not  correspond  with  any  living  fact, 
intellectual  movement,  or  emotion  of  the  sovil.  We  may  admire 
the  form  if  it  is  beavitiful,  but  an  art  which  possesses- such  power 


LECTURE  XVI.  215 

as  does  statuary  is  not  destined  merely  to  gratify  the  eyes  and 
conduct  the  mind  to  a  purely  material  criticism.  Foi'm  is,  after 
all,  only  a  means  of  calling  up  an  idea  or  a  sensation  ;  if  it  stands 
alone,  or  rather  if  it  has  not  sprung  into  existence  under  the 
inspiration  of  a  thought  which  it  is  destmed  to  diffuse,  form 
leaves  m  the  mind  only  a  very  fugitive  trace,  and  quickly 
wearies  us.  Our  most  eminent  sculptors  know  this  well ;  and 
so  not  being  able  to  diffuse  a  general  thought  over  a  whole 
edifice  they  content  themselves  with  embodying  the  idea,  if  they 
have  one,  in  a  statue  or  a  bust ;  and  they  sometimes  succeed. 
But  this  idea,  concentrated  withm  more  and  more  narrow  limits, 
in  proportion  as  art  is  more  and  more  confined  to  the  studio,  is 
absolutely  null  in  monumental  statuary.  Must  we  say  then  that 
the  injurious  conditions  now  prevailing  are  fatal  and  irremediable? 
that  with  the  veiy  abundant  and  distinguished  talent  which  our 
age  can  boast,  monumental  statuary  is  condemned  to  give  us 
only  detached  fragments,  injuring  each  other  by  their  proximity, 
having  no  relation  to  the  architecture,  and  jsresentiug  sometimes 
masterpieces  in  point  of  execution  consigned  to  oblivion  through 
the  vagueness  or  commonplace  character  of  the  thought  1 
Assuredly  not ;  an  art  that  possesses  so  many  elements  of 
vitaUty,  which  produces  not  unfrequently  works  of  considerable 
merit,  is  not  destined  to  perish  for  the  public,  and  place  its 
isolated  productions  on  scattered  pedestals,  or  in  mansions, 
palaces,  or  museums.  It  is  easy  to  lay  our  finger  on  the  evil, 
and  it  is  well  that  the  public  should  be  accurately  acquainted 
with  its  cause.  Now  the  pubhc  do  not  know  how  the  Kepublic 
of  the  Arts  is  administered,  and  the  critics  who  are  willing  to 
undertake  to  instruct  them  know  little  more  than  they  do,  or  have 
too  much  personal  interest  in  such  questions  to  say  all  the  truth. 
If  a  building  is  being  erected  in  which  statuary  will  have  to 
occupy  a  place  of  some  impoi'tance,  the  architect  devises  the 
plan,  submits  it  to  the  proper  authorities,  and  proceeds  to  the 
execution ;  immediately  he  is  assailed  by  applications  from 
sculptors  who  wish  to  have  a  share  in  the  work.  As  a  matter 
of  course  he  refers  them  to  the  board  of  management,  who  will 
undertake  to  have  the  work  done  when  required.  Meantime 
the  building  advances,  and  the  architect  assigns  the  places  which 
the  statuary  is  to  occupy.  Here  there  are  to  be  statues.  But 
what  ?  He  does  not  know,  and  it  is  of  little  importance  to  him. 
They  are  to  be  six  feet  high  ;  this  is  his  main  consideration. 
For  that  place  there  is  to  be  a  bas-relief.  .  .  .  What  is  it  to 
represent  ?  .  .  .  We  shall  see  by  and  by.  On  this  pediment,  or  in 
front  of  these  piers,  there  are  to  be  groups.  .  .  .  ^^^lat  are  they 
to  designate  ?  .  .  .  Industry,  Agriculture,  Music,  or  Poetry  ? 
.  .  .  This  will  be  settled  when  the  time  comes.     The  day  arrives 


216  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

when  the  sculptors  are  to  set  to  work.  Then  comes  the  melde. 
.  .  .  Mr.  So-and-so  gets  a  commission  for  a  statue  ;  ...  he  is 
furious  because  his  more  favoured  confrere  is  to  supply  two. 
The  latter  in  his  turn  anathematises  the  board  which  accords  a 
group  to  Mr.  M.,  and  Mr.  M.  is  beside  himself  on  finding  that  his 
group  will  have  an  inferior  position  to  that  assigned  to  Mr.  N. 
If  the  architect  enjoys  the  favour  of  the  board,  his  friends  will 
have  good  commissions ;  if  the  board  does  not  make  a  point  of 
obliging  him,  his  advice  wUl  not  even  be  asked  for,  but  he  will 
be  informed  by  an  official  letter  that  such  or  such  sculptors  having 
been  commissioned  by  the  board  to  execute  such  or  such  statues, 
bas-reliefs,  and  groups,  he  is  requested  to  arrange  with  them  con- 
cerning the  execution.  If,  in  such  an  assignment,  the  sculptors 
who  have  been  rejected  are  not  satisfied,  most  of  those  who  have 
obtained  commissions  are  scarcely  more  so.  This  one,  who  has 
the  honour  of  being  a  member  of  the  Institute,  thinks  it  un- 
seemly that  he  has  been  placed  on  an  equal  footing  with  a 
sculptor  who  is  not ;  he  considers  himself  wronged,  and  asks  for 
compensation.  Another,  who  has  manifested  a  rather  indepen- 
dent spirit  towards  the  board  or  the  Academy — it  comes  to  the 
same  thing, — has  only  plaster  medallions  for  the  interior  assigned 
him,  or  one  of  those  busts  which  are  the  small  coin  reserved  for 
candidates  or  artists  who  are  out  of  favour,  but  who  must  not  be 
allowed  absolutely  to  die  of  hunger.  The  perpetual  secretary  of 
the  Academie  des  Beaux  Arts,  who  is  fond  of  introducing  Phidias, 
ought  to  beg  him  to  tell  us  what  he  thinks  of  the  method  of 
procedure  when  the  decoration  of  our  buildings  is  in  question. 
However  this  may  be,  every  one  sets  to  work,  on  the  condition 
that  all  the  designs  will  have  to  be  submitted  to  the  architect, 
or,  most  frequently,  to  a  commission,  so  that  they  may  be 
approved  before  being  executed.  Of  course  each  sculptor  makes 
his  model  in  his  studio  ;  he  has  his  programme  and  the  dimen- 
sions assigned  him.  As  to  the  style  of  the  monument,  the  place 
to  be  occupied,  and  the  effect  of  the  whole,  he  rarely  takes  them 
into  consideration.  If  his  work  is  to  occupy  a  good  position,  he 
hopes  he  shall  eclipse  his  confrere  and  produce  something  .  .  . 
striking.  If  he  has  been  favoured  with  a  mere  second-rate  com- 
mission, he  patches  up  a  design  simply  that  he  may  get  the 
order  to  proceed.  He  produces  a  Muse  or  a  Season,  or  some- 
thing or  other  that  reminds  one  of  some  antique  statue  or  other. 
The  number  of  female  forms  in  this  official  statuary  is  considerable ; 
there  are  very  few  male  ones  !  Glory,  War,  Faith,  Charity,  Peace, 
Natural  Philosophy,  Astronomy, — all  are  feminine ;  but  even  if 
Commerce,  Spring,  Summer,  or  Autumn'  are  to  be  represented,  it 
is  still  woman  that  is  intrusted  with  these  parts.      If,  some  two 

■  The  reader  will  remember  that  the  French  equivalents  of  these  words  are  masculine. — Tr. 


LECTURE  XVI.  217 

or  three  thousand  years  hence,  when  the  grass  grows  on  the  sites 
of  our  public  buildings,  learned  antiquaries  should  make  explora- 
tions, they  will  certamly  suppose,  finding  so  many  French  statues, 
that  a  law  or  a  religious  dogma  interdicted  us  from  repi'esenting 
man  in  sculpture ;  and  they  will  read  long  dissertations  on  the 
subject  before  the  Academies  of  those  days,  and  which  wiU 
probably  be  "crowned."  At  length  the  designs  are  appi'oved. 
But  observe  that  a  model  to  the  scale  of  one-twentieth,  or  even 
to  that  of  one-tenth,  gives  no  idea  of  the  effect  when  a  place  in  a 
building  has  to  be  filled.  These  little  rough  models  of  clay 
or  plaster  can  give  even  the  most  practised  artist  only  an  idea 
of  the  design  of  the  work  itself;  they  cannot  enable  him  to 
form  an  opinion  as  to  the  efiect  which  this  model  enlarged  will 
produce  (even  supposing  its  j^rincipal  features  to  be  rigorously 
carried  out)  when  placed  upon  or  in  front  of  the  building  : 
approval  follows,  and  the  board  has  nothing  more  to  do.  Then 
the  sciUptors  who  have  received  these  commissions  shut  them- 
selves up  once  more  in  their  studios  with  then*  model  and  work 
separately. 

Some  of  them — I  have  known  such,  but  they  are  the  excep- 
tions— visit  their  colleagues ;  but  generally  they  abstain  from 
such  visits,  that  they  may  not  subject  themselves  to  an  influence 
which  might  derogate  from  the  originality  of  their  work.  In  the 
case  of  those  who  have  grouj^s  or  bas-rehefs  to  carve,  screens  of 
boards,  such  as  any  one  may  have  seen,  are  raised  in  front  of  the 
jwrtion  they  have  to  decorate,  and  they  set  their  employes  to 
work  on  a  model  wlaich  is  generally  half-size.  It  may  be  sup- 
posed that  they  do  not  visit  one  another's  works,  for  the  reasons 
above  mentioned.  One  fine  morning  the  screens  fall,  wagons 
bring  the  statues,  which  are  then  placed  m  their  niches  or  on  the 
pedestals ;  and  all  these  works,  in  which,  separately  considered, 
there  is  a  great  deal  of  real  merit,  produce  when  combined 
the  strangest  assemblage.  The  statues  executed  in  the  studio 
far  from  the  building  look  thin  and  poor ;  the  groups  overpower 
all  that  surrounds  them,  both  sculpture  and  architecture.  One 
bas-rehef  is  full  of  shadows,  another,  its  covmterpart,  is  only  a 
luminous  blotch.  Each  artist  brings  his  friends  to  look  at  his 
work,  and  these  friends  look  at  his  work  alone,  just  as  if  they 
were  in  the  studio  ;  the  round  of  compliments  is  exhausted  ;  the 
pubUc  are  not  much  enlightened,  and  the  critics  who  chance  to 
have  no  prepossessions  endeavour  to  discover  an  intention  in  the 
whole,  wliich  is  no  easy  matter. 

As  I  said  in  a  previous  Lecture,  what  chiefly  concerns  so 
many  people  who  are  intrusted  with  the  buUcUng  of  our  public 
edifices, — from  the  members  of  boards  to  the  artist  who  executes 
the  designs,  but  especially  the  former, — is  not  the  question  of  art. 


218  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

but  that  of  persons.  The  fraternity  and  fellows  severally 
have  to  be  conciliated,  such  or  such  a  patron  must  be  humoured, 
such  or  such  a  situation  of  great  interest  must  be  respected ;  and 
all  this  must  be  managed  with  discreet  patronage,  the  greatest 
number  possible  must  be  satisfied,  so  that  one's  importance  may 
be  increased,  and  a  body  of  canvassers  and  clients  may  be  secured, 
men  of  talent  not  be  disgusted,  while  mediocrities,  who  are 
the  majority,  ai'e  not  offended.  It  would  seem  i-easonable  that 
an  architect  intrusted  with  the  erection  of  a  building  in  which 
sculpture  occupies  an  important  place  should  be  also  com- 
missioned to  choose  and  direct  the  sculjitors  ;  but  if  that  is  to  be 
the  case,  architects  must  be  empowered  to  dictate  arrangements, 
and  sculptors  miist  be  willing  to  accept  them  ;  but  w^e  are  still 
far  from  being  able  to  fulfil  these  two  conditions.  Few  archi- 
tects, it  must  be  confessed,  are  competent  to  give  a  criticism  on 
a  piece  of  sculpture  based  on  clearly  understood  grounds ;  and 
very  few  could  put  such  ideas,  even  if  they  had  them,  on  paper. 
Or  if,  on  the  other  hand,  it  were  permitted  them  to  choose  a 
single  artist,  and  inti'ust  to  him  the  arrangements  for  the 
statuary  designed  to  decorate  a  facade  or  a  hall,  entirely  on  his 
own  responsibility,  perhaps  the  result  would  not  harmonise  with 
the  architecture,  but  there  would  be  a  chance  of  its  being  in 
harmony  with  itself.  This  would  not  suit  great  admmistrative 
bodies,  and  the  happy  object  of  the  architect's  choice  would  have 
enough  to  do  to  defend  himself  agamst  the  recriminations  and 
hatreds  which  he  would  thus  bring  upon  him.  The  state  of  the 
case  being  thus,  prudent  architects  avoid,  as  far  as  possible,  any 
prevision  regarding  the  statuary  to  be  placed  on  the  buildings 
they  erect ;  those  who  are  bold  enough  or  sufficiently  inex- 
perienced to  dare  to  ask  of  statuary  an  important  decorative 
element  are  sure  to  repent  of  it.' 

Next  to  the  Egyptians,  and  in  a  quite  different  order  of 
ideas,  no  epoch  of  art  in  our  view  has  better-  knowoi  how  to 
apply  statuaiy  to  architecture  than  the  best  period  of  the 
Middle  Ages.  We  have  so  little  Greek  statuary  forming  part 
of  a  monumental  work  that  I  could  not  venture  to  say  whether 
in  composition,  in  comprehensive  harmony,  the  Greeks  were 
superior  or  inferior  in  their  sculptured  ornamentation  to  the 
medifeval  masters.  We  can  only  speak  of  what  is  extant,  of 
what  we  see,  and  are  therefore  able  to  analyse.  And  while  the 
sculpture  in  the  Greek  buildings  extant  is  superior  in  point  of 
execution  to  all  that  has  ever  l^een  produced,  we  are  compelled 
to  admire  exceedingly  the  unlfonn  compositions  and  the  formal 
compartments  occupied  by  the  statuary  in  Greek  temples. 
Evidently  (I  speak  only  of  the  temples)  the  sculpture  is  sacri- 

1  See  the  seventh  Lecture. 


LECTURE  XVI.  219 

ficed  to  the  architectural  composition  ;  it  plays  only  a  restricted 
part,  and  one  which  cannot  have  any  considerable  influence, 
advantageous  or  to  the  contrary,  on  the  general  effect.  We 
may  suppose — and  we  have  a  specimen  of  the  kind  in  the 
Pandrosium  at  Athens — that  the  Greeks  erected  buildings 
in  which  sculpture  had  a  preponderating  influence  on  the 
architectural  composition  ;  but  as  these  monuments  no  longer 
exist,  we  can  only  form  more  or  less  ingenious  conjectures 
respecting  them.  I  am  inchned  to  accord  an  absolute  superiority 
to  the  Greeks  in  point  of  art  generally,  but  as  regards  architec- 
ture we  can  discuss  only  what  exists,  and  not  ;what  we  may 
suppose  to  have  existed — at  least  this  is  not  the  j^lace  for  so 
doing.  We  have  not  much  to  say  of  the  sculpture  connected 
with  the  architecture  of  the  Empire.  Sculpture  was  alien  to  the 
genius  of  the  Romans  :  to  them  it  was  an  exotic  art,  an  affliir 
of  luxury ;  the  beauty  of  a  truly  Roman  edifice  consists 
exclusively  in  its  admirable  construction.  I  freely  admit  that 
on  the  basilica  of  the  Forum  of  Trajan  the  sculpture  occupied  an 
important  place,  and  was  very  well  arranged,  if  we  may  trust 
the  data  supplied  by  medals  and  some  remains  ;  but  it  would  be 
difficult  to  restore  that  edifice,  as  far  as  this  point  is  concerned, 
with  any  degree  of  certainty.  The  triumphal  arches — for  I 
should  not  take  into  consideration  the  Roman  temples,  which 
are  merely  a  modification  of  the  Greek — are  nearly  the  only 
Roman  monuments  extant  in  which  statuary  is  closely  con- 
nected with  ai-chitecture.  Although  in  these  structures  the 
combination  does  not  present  a  perfect  harmony,  the  general 
effect  is  unquestionably  majestic,  the  relative  proportions  are 
often  happily  determined,  and  the  unity  of  composition  between 
the  statues,  the  bas-reliefs,  and  the  dominant  architectural  lines  is 
specially  commendable.  Evidejitly  the  architects  and  the  sculp- 
tors understood  each  other  perfectly,  and  we  may  surmise  that 
Rome  had  not  a  board  of  public  works  which  was  expected  to 
give  commissions  to  a  dozen  sculptors  to  decorate  an  edifice. 
And  as  regards  the  expression  of  the  idea,  the  Romans  are  not 
behind  the  Greeks.  The  designs  have  a  relation  to  each  other  ; 
they  mean  something,  and  foi'm  a  clear  and  consistent  whole. 
In  this  respect  the  column  of  Trajan,  which  we  mentioned 
above, ^  is  a  mastei'piece,  and  the  triumphal  arches,  the  only 
monmnents  extant  that  exhibit  complete  examples  of  the  inti- 
mate union  of  sculpture  with  architecture  among  the  Romans, 
do  not  less  clearly  express  the  causes  in  which  they  originated. 
It  may  be  replied  that  with  the  ancients  this  was  easy  enough  : 
that  the  Greeks  had  no  difficulty  in  designing  statuary  for  a, 
sacred  monument  whose  meaning  would  be  comprehensible  to  all, 

1  Fourth  Lecture. 


220  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

by  selecting  subjects  from  mythology  and  heroic  stoiy,  nor  the 
Romans  in  finding  subjects  suitable  for  a  triiunphal  arch,  battles, 
trophies,  treaties,  captives,  victors — this  was  perfectly  easy,  and 
the  subjects  spoke  for  themselves;  the  artists  of  the  Middle  Ages, 
who  lived  amid  a  society  in  great  part  based  upon  and  animated 
by  a  religious  behef,  could  decorate  the  exterior  of  a  church 
with  the  subjects  taken  from  any  part  of  the  sacred  hierarchy, 
from  Old  or  New  Testament  history.     But  to  what  repertory 
shall  the  sculptor  have  recourse  in  decorating  an  Exchange,  a 
Court  of  Justice,  or  a  Theatre  ?    Are  we  not  in  these  cases  forced 
to  adopt  those  stupid  and  monotonous  abstractions  which  have 
no  meaning  for  the  multitude  ?     The  public  may  form  an  idea 
of  Jupiter,  of  the  Fates,  or  the  Virgin  ;   in  fact  it  may  possibly 
personify  a  virtue  or  a  quaUty,  such  as  Courage,  Patience,  Faith, 
Force — even  a  city  or  province,  but  under  what  form  can  we 
represent    Industry,    Commerce,    the     Constitution,     Physics, 
Astronomy,  Poetry,  lyrical  or  fanciful  ?    That  Muses  should  be 
the  patrons  of  Tragedy,  Comedy,  or  Astronomy  is  intelligible,  as 
we  may  suppose  a  Deity  presiding  over  the  rain  or  the  harvests  ; 
the  multitude  recognises  the  myth,  and  no  further  explanation 
is  needed  ;  but  how  personify  an    abstraction  ?     Are  we  then 
condemned  to  the  unvarying  reproduction  of  myths  that  have  no 
meaning  for  us,  or  to  give  a  form  to  ideas  which  are  incompatible 
with  a  fonn  ?     Or,  on  the  other  hand,  must  we  keep  to  cold  and 
inevitably  ridiculous  Allegories, — show  Despotism  crushed  by 
Emancipated  Thought,    or   Anarchy  vanquished    by   Order,   or 
Religion  sheltering  the  suffering  beneath  its  immortal  mantle,  or 
Liberty  breaking  a  pile  of  fetters  ?    Can  we  not  do  something  else, 
and  something  better  1     Cannot  we  find  in  the  past  elementally 
ideas  which  it  woidd  be  possible  to  develop  ?     In  art,  poetry, 
and  sentiment  no  absolutely  new  invention  is  possible,  because 
the  human  heart  has  been  ever  beating  in  the  same  way.     And 
what  we  call  new  can  only  be  a  fuller  or  wider  development  of 
an  idea  which  is  usually  quite  an  old  one.    Two  sentiments — love 
and  hatred — supply,  and  will  long  supply,  poets,  novelists,  and 
dramatists  with  materials  for  moving  the  passions  of  readers  and 
heai-ers,  if  they  only  present  these  passions  under  a  new  phase. 

I  grant  that  if  we  have  to  produce  a  programme  for  the  com- 
position of  a  general  work  in  sculpture  for  a  public  building, 
some  ingenuity  and  some  tact  is  needed,  and  boards  of  works  are 
not  responsible  for  these  conditions,  but  architects  at  least  might 
take  account  of  them,  for  their  reputation  is  often  at  stake  in 
the  matter.  The  sculptural  commonplaces  with  which  they 
cover  the  buildings  confided  to  their  skill  are  imputed  to  the 
baiTenness  of  then-  imaginations,  their  want  of  knowledge,  or  to 
prejudices  derived  from  the  school,  which,  whatever  may  be 


LECTURE  XVI.  221 

alleged  to  the  conti'ary,  are  confined  to  a  very  narrow  coterie. 
Niiie-tentlis  of  ovir  sculptors  and  painters  confine  themselves  to 
their  own  narrow  circle,  and  manifest  a  profound  contempt  for 
all  who  do  not  handle  the  chisel  or  the  brush  ;  architects,  who 
are  perhaps  less  exclusive,  are  nevertheless  afflicted  with  this 
malady  of  caste  which  has  been  introduced  among  us  by  the 
institution  of  the  Academies.  This  world  of  artists  reads  httle, 
and  takes  no  trouble  to  make  itself  acquainted  with  the  progress 
of  thought.  On  the  other  hand,  the  public  are  absolutely 
ignorant  of  the  grounds  on  which  artists  proceed.  As  contact 
between  them  rarely  if  ever  occurs,  the  indifference  of  the  public 
towards  the  questions  which  interest  artists  increases  in  direct 
proportion  to  the  contempt  exliibited  by  the  latter  for  all 
criticism  outside  their  caste.  But  it  is  artists  themselves  who 
lose  most  in  this  state  of  things,  and  it  would  be  well  if  they 
were  to  be  convinced  of  it  for  the  sake  of  theu-  own  interest. 
Those  of  them  who  covet  success,  perceiving  that  the  public  does 
not  undei'stand  their  language,  flatter  the  equivocal  taste  of  the 
multitude,  not  gi'ving  them  credit  for  anything  but  imwholesome 
fancies.  Whatever  talent  they  may  therefore  display  in  their 
works,  these  artists  debase  the  level  of  art  and  tend  to  make  it 
a  contemptible  calling.  I  would  not  be  mistaken  here  :  I  am 
not  one  of  those  who  admit  that  there  can  be  high  or  low  ai-t  ; 
there  is  only  one  art,  and  if  the  public  shows  a  preference  for 
representations  of  an  equivocal  kind,  it  is  because  it  finds  at  least 
ideas  in  such  productions,  while  it  can  discover  none  in  those  of 
an  elevated  order.  What  is  now  called,  for  example,  religious 
sculpture  and  painting,  whatever  be  the  merit  of  the  execution, 
is  utterly  commonplace  and  uninteresting,  and  is  absolutely  want- 
ing in  thought  and  idea.  It  is  not  because  their  works  represent 
what  are  called  religious  subjects  that  the  public  has  no  interest 
in  them,  but  because  their  works  are  stale  copies,  having  no 
religious  or  other  ideas  in  them.  All  subjects  are  good,  provided 
they  present  a  clear  thought  to  the  public  ;  but  in  order  to  paint 
or  carve  subjects  of  an  elevated  order,  the  artist  who  conceives 
them  must  have  an  elevated  mind,  and  must  not  take  his  inspira- 
tions from  a  depot  of  traditional  commonplaces.  Every  pamter 
who  tmdertakes  to  paint  a  religious  subject  is  immediately 
haunted  by  the  productions  of  Raphael  or  one  of  the  masters  of 
the  Renaissance.  Every  sculptor  who  is  working  at  a  bas- 
relief,  an  allegorical  group  or  figure,  or  one  belonging  to  a 
doubtful  mythology,  is  similarly  possessed  by  Classical  works, 
or,  what  is  -Cvorse,  by  those  which  are  mere  imitations  of  them. 
The  public  is  weary  of  this,  and  not  unreasonably  ;  at  any  rate 
such  productions  cannot  attract  its  attention.  At  the  first 
glance  the  multitude  recognises  the  work  as  belonging  to  the 


222  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

merely  conventional  order  ;  to  use  a  common  phrase,  they  do 

not  beheve  any  such  thing  ever  ha])pened,  and  they  pass  on. 

Apart  from  the  merit  of  the  work,  it  was  not  thus  among  the 

Greeks ;  and  the  sculptures  that  decorated  the  Parthenon  or  the 

Temple  of  Theseus  had  a  very  distinct  and  even,  so  to  speak, 

living  meaning  for  them.     Nor  again  was  it  thus  with  those  who 

in  former  ages  stopped  to  gaze  at  the  portal  of  a  Cathedral ;  for 

not  only  did  they  find  there  a  whole  world  of  thought  which  was 

familiar  to  them,  but  saw  in  what  was  represented  the  eternal 

struggle    of  good  against    evil,    the    ruin  of   the   wicked,    the 

apotheosis  of  the  just,  and  the  glorification  of  virtue,  however 

humble.     It  was  thus  with  the  help  of  an  idea,  or  a  succession 

of  ideas,  understood  by  all ;  if  the  form  was  beautiful  the  eyes 

became   accustomed  to  be  interested  in  things  of  art,  to  love 

them,  and  to  become  familiar  with  the  beautiful.     There  is  no 

other   means  of  habituating  the  public  to  the  beautiful,  and 

making  it  loved  by  them,  but  presenting  beautiful  forms  as  the 

expression  of  an  idea  which  arrests  their  thoughts,  engages  and 

interests  them.     But  an  idea  must  not  be  wanting ;  it  must  be 

comprehensible  and  must  strike  a  right  chord.     Looking  away 

from  those  vapid  allegories  or  abstractions  in  sculpture,  if  we  take, 

for  instance,  ■  a  bas-relief  of  our  own  days  representing  the  Last 

Judgment — supposmg    this   to    embody   a    generally   received 

belief, — it  must  not   be   left  out  of  consideration  that  we  are 

now  far  advanced  in  the  nineteenth  centuiy,  and  that  the  idea 

which  religious  people  form  of  the  Last  Judgment  cannot  be  the 

same  as  that  which  occupied  people's  minds  in  the  thirteenth. 

But  if  we  compare  the  bas-reliefs  that  represent  this  scene  on 

our  old  Cathedrals  with  that  which  adorns  the  tympanum  of  the 

Madeleine,  it  is  in  the  older  sculptures   that  we  shall  find  a 

philosophical,  delicate,  and  true  thought  developed,  whereas  in 

the  latter  a  material  and  coarse  idea  will  be  exhibited,  or  rather 

no  thought  at  all.     Let  us  examine  first  the  bas-relief  of  the 

thirteenth  century.      Christ  is  represented  half-clothed,  showing 

his  wounds, — pointing  out  the  redemptive  sacrifice,  the  Divine 

endeavour  to  redeem  the  sins  of  the  world.     This  suffices  to 

indicate  that  those  who  are  condemned  are  not  excusable.     He 

is  accompanied  by  angels  bearing  the  instruments  of  the  Passion 

as  a  testimony  against  them.      Then  we  observe  the  beloved 

disciple    St.    John  and    his  mother  on  her  knees   at   his    side 

interceding  for  man.     The  elect,  all  in   the   same   dress,  and 

crowned,  are  of  neither  sex, — which,  in  point  of  art,  obviates  a 

great  difficulty  ;  the  condemned,  on  the  contrary,  preserve  their 

characteristic  features.     We  have  a  crowd  in  which  are  people  of 

every  condition — labourers, traders,  soldiers,  women,  popes,  kings, 

priests  :  there  is  no  distinction  among  the  reprobate.     Certainly, 


LECTURE  XVI.  223 

granted  the  belief,  it  could  not  be  rendered  by  a  more  just 
expression,  or  one  at  the  same  time  more  conformable  to  the 
requirements  of  the  plastic  ai-t.  But  what  does  the  bas-relief  on 
the  tympanum  of  the  Madeleine  exhibit  to  us  ?  A  fully  draped 
Christ,  who  seems  placed  there  merely  to  separate  the  crowd ;  and 
on  one  side  personages — chiefly  women — with  a  sanctimonious 
expression,  who  seem  to  be  addressing  the  Saviour  to  thank  him 
for  separating  them  from  a  posse  of  demoniacs  going  off  on  the 
other  side,  making  horrible  grimaces,  and  pommelling  each  other. 
I  appeal  to  any  unprejudiced  judgment  as  to  which  of  these  two 
designs  contain  the  religious  thought  fit  to  impress  the  mul- 
titude ?  Better  certainly  not  to  produce  statuary — to  repudiate 
it  altogether  like  the  Mussulmans — than  to  place  on  the  front  of 
our  churches  designs  so  destitute  of  all  thought, — I  will  not  say 
religious,  but  even  right  or  sensible.  I  shall  be  told  that 
the  bas-relief  of  the  tympanum  of  the  Madeleine  was  not 
designed  for  the  purpose  of  converting  people,  but  to  show  to 
future  generations  how  well  our  sculptors  can  model  and  drape 
figures.  .  .  .  But  what  interest  has  the  public  in  the  matter,  if 
these  figures,  however  well  modelled  and  draped,  teach  it 
nothing — say  nothmg  to  it, — produce  no  moral  impression  upon 
it  ?  It  will  prefer  to  betake  itself  to  the  Museum  of  Antiquities, 
and  justly.  In  spite  of  restricted  belief, — and  though  I  have 
never  seen  any  one  stop  to  look  at  the  tympanum  of  the  Made- 
leme, — in  crossmg  the  square  in  front  of  Notre  Dame  (as  I  have 
sometimes  had  occasion  to  do),  I  have  not  unfrequently  per- 
ceived groups  of  persons  stopping  before  the  central  door  and 
interpreting  in  their  way  the  bas-reliefs  on  the  tympanum 
over  it.  Even  in  our  day  this  piece  of  sculpture  elicits  ideas, 
makes  people  think  of  something,  while  that  on  the  Madeleine 
may  perhaps  interest  a  few  sculptors,  but  utterly  fails  to  engage 
the  eyes  of  the  public,  for  wliich,  however,  we  must  suppose  it 
to  have  been  produced.  Yet  even  here  that  shade  of  an  idea 
exists,  though  poorly  expressed ;  but  what  shall  we  say  of  the 
statues  perched  up  one  neither  knows  why  nor  wherefore,  on 
most  of  our  modern  churches,  and  which  are  apparently  carved 
with  no  other  purpose  than  to  give  self-styled  sculptors  some- 
thing to  do  ? 

But  leaving  these  abortions,  let  us  see  whether  there  is  not 
a  means  of  escaping  from  the  worn-out  mythologies,  insipid 
allegories,  and  the  sickly  or  vapidly  sanctimonious  religious 
styles  that  have  intruded  themselves  for  some  time  past.  There 
is  one  subject  wliich  is  eternally  true,  and  which  as  long  as  there 
are  human  beings  on  this  earth  will  always  have  the  power  to 
interest  them, — the  antagonism  between  good  and  evil,  the 
struggle    of  the   good   against   the    bad,  of  truth  with  error. 


224  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

Though  eiTor  and  evil  often  triumph,  tlie  defeats  sustained  by 
truth  and  goodness  have  not  been  able  to  diminish  the  respect 
which  every  one  cherishes  for  them  in  his  own  conscience.  This 
antagonism  offers  to  artists  an  inexhaustible  fund  of  subjects, 
especially  to  sculptors,  who  have  but  a  limited  number  of  foi-ms 
for  expressing  an  idea.  The  theme  in  question  always  arrests 
attention,  because  it  reminds  every  one  of  his  own  history, 
encourages  the  victims  of  -wrong  to  persevere  in  the  right,  and 
condemns  error  or  wickedness  in  the  public  view. 

The  sculptors  and  painters  of  the  Middle  Ages  were  well 
aware  of  this,  and  have  left  us  many  illustrations  in  plastic  arts 
of  this  antagonism,  as  well  in  religious  as  in  civil  monvnnental 
structures.  To  personify  a  virtue  or  some  other  abstract  quality, 
and  to  oppose  to  it  the  contrary  of  that  virtue  or  quality,  is  an 
idea  which  has  at  least  the  merit  of  ingenuity  from  an  aesthetic 
point  of  view.  We  have  here  an  occasion  for  displajnng  con- 
trasts which  cannot  fail  to  attract  the  eye  and  occupy  the  mind. 
We  have  moreover  an  element  of  plastic  compositions.  This 
suggestion  is  not  equivalent  to  having  recourse  to  allegory, — 
exhibiting,  for  example,  as  I  was  just  saying,  the  personification 
of  Order  crushing  the  personification  of  Anarchy,  or  that  of 
Liberty  trampling  on  Despotism.  But  I  foresee  the  objections 
that  will  be  brought.  .  .  .  How,  it  will  be  said,  will  you  repre- 
sent those  correlations  on  our  public  buildings  ?  .  .  I  fiUly  admit 
that  with  our  present  conceptions  of  architecture  this  would  be 
impossible ;  and  tlois  is  exactly  the  point  to  which  I  wished  to 
come.  When  statuary  is  to  be  placed  on  a  fayade,  certain 
tympanums,  niches,  or  pedestals  which  are  evidently  superero- 
gatory are  contrived,  and  the  band  of  the  elect  are  summoned. 
"  Here,"  they  are  told,  "  are  the  places  allotted  you  ;  there 
might  be  more  or  less,  or  none  at  all  ;  for  this  sculpture  is  no 
essential  part  of  the  building,  it  is  nothing  more  or  less  than  a 
supei-fluous  decoration,  a  surplusage  of  luxury.  Between  the 
group  placed  there  on  a  pedestal  near  the  ground,  the  statues 
perched  up  in  these  niches  and  the  bas-relief  which  fiJls  a  tym- 
panum, we  do  not  contemplate  establishing  any  relation  in 
thought,  subject,  or  even  execution.  If  these  works  have  any 
signification,  it  belongs  to  them  individually ;  no  general  icono- 
gi'aphy  exists,  no  dominant  scheme  is  recognised.  We  have  pieces 
of  sculpture  and  nothing  more  ;  do  not  look  for  anything  else. 

Let  us,  however,  examine  the  subject  in  detail.  Three 
distinct  systems  are  recognisable  in  the  styles  of  archi- 
tecture known  to  us  which  have  called  in  sculpture  as  a 
decorative  accessory,  and  it  seems  hardly  possible  to  imagine  a 
fourth.  The  first,  and  most  ancient,  is  that  adopted  by  the 
Egyptians,  but  it  is  probable  that  they  were  not  its  inventors. 


LECTURE  XVI.  225 

This  system  consists,  as  is  ■well  known,  in  covering  the  bare 
spaces  with  a  kind  of  continuous  tapestry  representing  religious, 
heroic,  or  historic  subjects, — a  tapestry  which  in  nowise  alters  the 
principal  lines  of  the  architecture  ;  and  in  placing  colossal  figures 
before  pillars  or  pylons,  or  as  ornaments  ;  figures  which  are  an 
essentiid  part  of  the  architecture,  both  in  composition  and 
method  of  treatment.  Here  sculpture  and  architecture  seem, 
as  it  were,  to  have  grown  up  together.  The  Greek  monuments 
may  be  comprised  among  the  ofi'-shoots  of  this  system.  Though 
much  less  lavish  of  monumental  sculj^ture  than  the  Egyptians, 
the  Greeks  also  considered  this  kind  of  decoration  as  forming  an 
essentia]  part,  of  the  architectui-e.  The  metopes,  the  tympanums, 
and  friezes  of  the  Parthenon  are  panels  or  tapestries  in  sculp- 
tm-e  having  no  influence  on  the  structural  Imes  ;  and  though  we 
may  not  be  acquainted  with  any  Greek  temple  the  walls  of 
whose  cella  were  covered  with  bas-reliefs  from  top  to  bottom, 
such  may  have  existed,  and  the  fact  would  not  contravene  the 
Greek  idea  of  the  application  of  statuary  to  architecture.  The 
Basilica  of  the  Giants  at  Agrigentum  shows  also  that  colossal 
statues  of  a  purely  architectural  character,  and  according  exactly 
with  the  architectural  lines,  as  among  the  Egyptians,  were 
adopted  by  the  Dorian  race.  Next  to  this  primitive  system, 
of  which  we  find  specimens  in  Asia,  we  may  class  the  Roman 
system.  And  by  this  we  mean  that  which  strictly  belonged  to 
the  Romans,  not  their  imitations  of  Greek  ai't.  The  Roman 
system  regards  sculpture  only  as  a  decorative  accessory,  without 
any  connection  with  architecture.  Except  in  certam  monu- 
ments whose  characteristics  in  this  respect  we  have  particu- 
larised, viz.,  the  column  of  Trajan  and  the  triumphal  arches,  the 
Romans  adopt  sculpture  as  a  kind  of  spoil  with  which  they 
ornament  their  buildings  :  and  in  fact  such  was  their  actual 
procedure.  They  were  perhaps  the  first  who  had  the  taste  of 
amateurs  for  objects  of  a  certain  marked  value,  and  who 
took  a  pride  in  collecting  them.  Even  during  the  Republic 
we  find  Cicero  forming  a  museum,  and  asking  his  friend  Atticus 
to  send  him  from  Athens  copies  or  casts  in  default  of  original 
Greek  statues.  It  would  seem  that  except  in  the  above- 
mentioned  monuments  of  a  particular  kind,  the  Romans  did 
not  concern  themselves  with  iconography.  Theii"  architects, 
like  our  own,  used  to  prepare  niches  and  raise  pedestals  here 
and  there,  and  woiild  then  go  to  Greece  for  statues  fitted  to 
occupy  them. 

Lastly,  we  have  the  system  adopted  by  the  mediaeval  artists 
— a  system  which  restores  to  iconography  the  importance  it 
had  acquired  in  Egypt  and  in  Greece,  but  which  proceeds 
differently  as  regards  the  composition.     This  system  does  not 

VOL.  II.  p 


22G  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

allow  of  colossal  sculpture,*  and  groups  tlie  figures  so  as  to 
present  a  striking  scenic  eflect  at  a  particular  point.  BaH-relief 
does  not  comport  with  it,  as  it  does  with  Egyptian  and  Greek 
sculpture ;  the  subjects  have  the  effect  of  a  tapestry  covered 
with  slightly  projecting  figures,  but  are  all  represented  in  full 
relief,  except  at  some  points  near  the  eye  of  the  spectator,  and 
which  are  intended  to  appear  as  a  kind  of  hanging.  It  does  not 
seek,  as  do  the  Egyptian  and  Greek  systems,  to  develop  the 
sculpture  on  wide  spaces  or  long  friezes,  but  on  the  contrary  to 
concentrate  it  on  some  points  whose  excessive  richness  and  bril- 
liant effects  contrast  with  the  less  striking  parts.  It  makes  the 
sculpture  form  part  of  the  structure  more  decidedly  than  the 
Egyptian  and  Greek  systems  ;  brings  the  former  into  close 
association  with  the  latter,  and  even  makes  it  accentuate  the 
construction  ;  in  proof  of  which  may  be  cited  those  portals  which 
are  so  richly  decorated,  and  whose  lintels,  tympanums,  jambs, 
or  relieving  voussou-s  are  clearly  indicated  by  the  sculptured 
arrangements,  so  that  each  object  or  figure  is  a  piece  of  stone 
with  a  definite  and  useful  function.  The  mediasval  artist  in 
France,  as  much  for  reasons  founded  on  the  nature  of  the  climate 
as  from  considerations  of  art,  shelters  his  statuary,  and  seldom 
allows  its  outlines  to  cut  the  sky.  Moreover  the  statuary  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  like  that  of  Egypt,  India,  and  Greece,  is  always 
painted.  This  is  equivalent  to  saying  that  those  civihsations 
which  really  had  schools  of  sculpture  considered  that  this  art 
could  not  dispense  with  painting. 

It  is  pretty  clear,  I  think,  from  what  has  just  been  stated,  that 
statuary  appUed  to  architecture  has  accommodated  itself  to  two 
distmct  systems  of  composition  :  the  one  adopted  by  the  people 
of  Asia,  Egypt,  and  Greece  also,  the  other  proper  to  our 
mediasval  art. 

The  Romans  cUd  not  adopt  either  decidedly  ;  their  method, 
in  fact,  may  be  said  to  consist  in  having  none.  It  would  seem 
that  we  in  the  present  day  prefer  this  neutral  position, — the 
absence  of  iconography,  and  of  any  decided  system  of  decora- 
tion,— though  accompanied  by  pretensions  which  the  Romans 
certainly  did  not  make.  Why  then  should  we  extol  the  Greeks 
if  we  are  so  little  concerned  to  resemble  them  in  their  desirable 
qualities  ?  And  what  have  our  architects  to  do  with  Athens  ?  Do 
we  wish  to  resemble  those  rogues  who  are  constantly  appealing 
to  honour  and  probity  ?  For  my  own  part,  I  prefer  the  candour 
with  which  some  members  of  the  Academie  dcs  Beaux  Arta, 

■  We  cannot  give  the  name  of  coloss.il  sculpture  to  any  other  than  that  which  appears 
such  by  its  relative  proportions.  The  statues  of  the  kings  iu  the  galleries  of  Notre  Dame 
at  Amiens,  which  are  thirteen  feet  in  height,  have  no  pretensions  to  appear  colossal,  ami 
are  of  this  size  only  on  account  of  the  height  at  which  they  are  ]>laceil.  In  fact,  they 
appear  of  natural  size. 


LECTURE  XVI.  227 

twenty  years  ago,  when  travels  in  Greece  were  beginning  to  be 
undertaken  by  our  artists,  declared  that  a  residence  in  Greece 
was  useless  if  not  injurious  to  architects.  They  were  of  opinion 
that  a  residence  in  the  country  of  Pericles, — though  in  this 
experience  proves  that  they  were  mistaken, — might  give  them 
ideas  contrary  to  the  principles  on  which  the  Academy  was 
founded,  and  seduce  them  from  the  loyalty  to  that  mongrel 
Roman  style  which  is  the  only  one  approved  by  that  institution, 
and  of  which  Lebrun's  age  has  supplied  the  only  recognised 
types.  In  fact,  we  are  reduced  to  that  meaningless  Ilomun 
style,  with  some  indications  even  of  further  enfeeblement, — 
which  is  natural  enough ;  and  if  our  architects  bring  back 
anything  from  Attica,  it  is  merely  descriptive  matter ;  for  of 
principles  they  bring  nothing  at  all ;  or  at  least  they  take  good 
care  not  to  apply  them  in  their  works. 

I  am  by  no  means  desirous  that  one  of  the  Theban  buildmgs, 
or  even  the  Parthenon,  should  be  reproduced  in  Paris  ;  what  use 
could  we  make  of  them  ?  If  we  are  to  imitate  an  ancient  build- 
ing absolutely,  I  would  rather  see  one  of  the  veritably  Eoman 
structures  erected, — the  Basilica  of  Constantino,  for  example ; 
we  could  at  least  make  some  use  of  that.  But  then  let  us  be 
unpretending  ;  let  us  regard  the  facades  of  our  public  buildings 
as  mere  exhibitions  of  works  of  art, — museums  or  bazaars  in  the 
open  air,  where  each  sculpitor  presents  his  production  to  the  gaze 
of  amateurs ;  but  let  us  not  presume  to  make  believe  that  we 
know  how  to  apply  statuary  art  to  architecture.  A  propos  of 
this  matter,  allow  me  to  relate  an  anecdote,  which,  however,  shall 
not  be  a  long  one.  At  seventeen,  X.  was  a  pupil  in  the  studio  of 
an  architect,  a  member  of  the  Institute,  a  most  excellent  man, 
whom  he  venerated  on  account  of  the  uprightness  of  his 
character.  This  master  made  his  pupil  copy  and  shade  in  Indian 
ink  many  fragments  of  Roman  buildings ;  and  the  youth  wuuld 
amuse  himself  by  completing  on  the  margin  of  his  drawings — 
according  to  his  notion  of  them — the  buildings  of  which  only  a 
part  had  been  shown  him.  It  wiU  readily  be  imagined  that  these 
restoi-ations  had  no  resemblance  to  the  reality.  He  made  them  up 
out  of  reminiscences  fi-om  every  quarter,  and  heaven  only  knows 
what  singular  farragos  they  were  !  The  Eclectics  would  have 
been  charmed  with  them  !  A  gate  of  the  Temple  of  Cora  would 
be  attached  to  a  house-front  of  which  a  glimpse  had  been  gained 
at  Rouen  or  at  Dreux  ;  a  row  of  columns  from  the  Theatre  of 
Marcellus  would  be  surmounted  by  an  attic  covered  with  bas- 
rehefs,  and  rested  on  a  basement  borrowed  from  some  Florentine 
palace.  At  first  the  master  seemed  to  pay  no  attention  to  these 
fantastic  restorations,  but  seeing  the  thing  continued,  he  said,^ 
"  What 's  all  this  V    The  pupil  stammered  out  an  explanation  of 


228  LECTURES  ON  ARCIIITECrURE. 

his  intention.  No  furthci'  notice  was  taken,  till,  seeing  the 
malady  was  chronic,  the  master  one  morning  called  the  pupil 
into  his  study  and  addressed  him  as  follows  :  "  My  dear  fellow, 
you  arc  losing  your  time;  if  you  have  the  means,  I  recommend 
you,  as  it  is  summer-time,  to  take  a  run  along  the  banks  of  the 
Loire  or  in  Normandy,  copy  the  buildings  you  sec,  and  show  me 
your  drawings  when  you  come  back."  The  youth  did  not  requii'e 
to  have  the  advice  repeated.  On  returning, — in  fact  he  hastened 
as  quickly  as  he  could  to  show  his  master  his  portfolio.  Having 
looked  at  the  contents  in  silence, — "  Well,"  said  he,  "  what  con- 
clusions have  you  drawn  from  all  this  ?"  The  tyro  architect  had 
drawn  no  conclusions,  as  may  be  imagined,  and  said  nothing.  The 
master  added :  "As you  used  to  presume  to  construct  tlie  whole  of 
a  building  from  a  fragment  or  a  range  of  columns  which  you  copied 
in  the  studio,  how  is  it  that  you  deduce  no  inferences  from  the 
numerous  buildings  and  parts  of  buildings  which  you  have  been 
drawing  ?  A  house,  a  mansion,  a  chui-ch,  each  has  a  guiding 
principle  of  construction,  and  everything  that  contributes  to  the 
ornamentation  of  these  buildings  must  also  have  its  why  and. 
wherefore.  Have  you  asked  yourself  whether  the  various  edifices 
you  have  drawn  have  attracted  you,  whether  they  have  given 
you  a  desire  to  copy  them  because  they  very  obviously  har- 
monised with  their  objects,  and  whether  their  decoration  was 
what  it  oiight  to  be  ?  I  see  that  you  have  made  a  good  selection 
as  the  result  of  natural  good  taste  ;  but  that  is  not  enough.  You 
should  know  why  and  how  a  work  of  art  gives  pleasure.  Travel 
again,  if  you  can  manage  it,  and  let  your  head  work  more  than 
your  hand,  both  in  your  journeys  and  in  the  studio."  This 
advice  harmonised  too  well  with  the  pupil's  taste  not  to  be 
followed  ;  he  continued  his  travels  in  France  and  other  parts  of 
Europe,  constantly  remembering  the  last  words  of  his  excellent 
instructor.  And  the  final  conclusion  to  be  di-awn  is  this.  If 
it  would  please,  whatever  be  the  dress  in  which  architecture 
exhibits  itself,  the  expression  must  result  from  a  thought  per- 
fectly clear  and  definite ;  it  should  never  wander  into  dreamy 
vagueness  under  the  pretext  of  giving  utterance  to  a  sudden 
inspiration  or  metaphysical  penchant,  or  a  mere  sentiment. 
Such  emotions  as  music  and  poetry  are  able  to  call  forth  in 
the  soul  of  the  hearer  can  only  be  2)roduced  by  the  contempla- 
tion of  an  architectural  work,  when  it  affects  the  mind  through 
the  medium  of  reason.  As  far  as  this  point  is  concerned  we  must 
be  "  exclusive,"  as  our  modern  enthusiasts  would  call  it,  i.e.  we 
must  exclude  from  art  all  that  does  not  fulfil  this  condition. 

The  disposition  to  transpose  the  arts  is  somewhat  mdicative 
of  decadence.  The  writer  pretends  to  paint ;  he  exchanges  his  -pen 
for  a  brush,  and  he  makes  the  words  of  the  language  his  pidette. 


LECTURE  XVL  229 

He  gives  every  bramble  in  liis  landscape  leaf  by  leaf,  spares  not 
a  single  technical  term,  and  marks  every  point  of  light  and 
shade  ;  he  gives  you  a  catalogue  of  the  pebbles  on  the  road, — he 
knows  that  this  one  is  composed  of  the  purest  granite,  and  that 
one  of  a  fragment  of  quartz  ;  and  he  supposes  that  in  giving  you 
this  inventory  he  has  transported  you  to  the  locality  lie  has 
described ;  he  deepens  the  backgrounds  and  heightens  the  foliage. 
The  roughest  pencil  sketches  would  make  us  better  acquainted 
with  the  landscape.  On  the  other  hand,  there  is  a  certain  school 
of  painters  who  try  to  make  a  philosophic  or  social  manifesto  of 
a  picture.  Nt)t  a,  bit  of  drapery  or  the  slightest  accessory  but 
conceals  a  profound  signification.  A  picture  thus  becomes  a 
riddle  ;  and  if  we  do  not  take  in  the  most  subtle  intimations  of 
the  artist  at  a  glance,  if  we  do  not  penetrate  with  him  into  the 
labyrinth  of  the  morbid  fancies  he  has  thought  proper  to  bring 
upon  his  canvas,  he  thinks  us  idiots. 

In  architecture  also  we  have  artists  simil-arly  misguided.  They 
are  but  few,  I  allow,  and  considermg  the  want  of  ideas  manifested 
by  most  of  our  modern  architectural  conceptions,  I  am  inclined  to 
be  very  indulgent  to  these  aberrant  seekers  ; — they  are  at  least 
seekers.  Nevertheless,  our  younger  students  should  beware  of 
them  ;  they  are  dangerous.  A  whole  page  of  a  romance  or  novel 
occupied  with  the  description  of  the  corner  of  a  dirty  court  or 
the  bottom  of  a  staircase  abandoned  to  the  rats,  is  nothing  worse 
than  a  useless  page ;  it  may  be  borne  with.  A  dashing  style, 
happy  turns  of  expression,  a  jingle  of  words,  a  selection  of 
piquant  antitheses,  may  still  keep  the  reader  awake ;  but  in 
architecture  no  such  resources  are  available,  and  transpositions 
are  tiresome.  Even  on  paper  this  art  is  obliged  to  express  the 
thought  by  common-sense  methods  regularly  deduced  from  in- 
exorable laws  ;  and  when  a  vague  cloudy  idea  lying  outside  the 
domain  of  plastic  art  lias  to  be  expressed  in  stone,  wood,  or  iron, 
the  result  verges  closely  on  the  ridiculous. 

Is  it  not  strange,  that  while  writer's  of  a  certain  school  are 
making  a  point  of  minutely  describing  a  spot,  a  room,  a  hovel, — 
to  add  interest  and  reality  to  a  narrative, — architects,  disdainful 
of  the  imperatively  material  side  of  their  art,  unmindful  alike  of 
the  most  ordinary  requirements,  the  nature  of  materials  and 
manner  of  using  them,  and  of  relative  proportion  between  the 
cost  and  the  importance  of  the  object,  should  pretend  to  express 
with  stone  and  iron  a  complex  thought,  which  is  dilKcult  to 
render  even  by  the  most  subtle  analysis  ? 

Architecture  cannot  pretend  to  anything  of  the  kind ;  it  speaks 
only  the  language  of  plastic  art.  It  is  evident  that  if  the  archi- 
tect erects  a  wall  without  an  opening,  he  conveys  the  idea 
of  a  place  that  is  strictly  shut  up  and  defended,  and  conse- 


230  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

quently  suggests  distrust ;  tliat  if,  on  the  contrary,  he  pierces 
a  facade  with  numerous  openings,  and  ornaments  it  with 
sculpture,  he  gives  his  building  an  appearance  of  hospitality, 
and  attaches  an  idea  of  ease  and  luxury  to  it.  Mistrust  and 
its  opposite — -luxurious  hospitality — are,  moreover,  very  simple 
notions,  comporting  with  expression  by  plastic  ai't,  because  they 
have  to  do  with  material,  visible,  and  sensible  facts.  But  how 
can  we  give  architectural  expression  to  the  love  of  coitntri/,  the 
sense  of  duty,  tolerance,  or  the  idea  o^ fraternity  and  nnion? 

These  latter  are  complex  emotions  of  the  heart  and  of 
rational  reflection,  lying  entirely  outside  the  domain  of  plastic 
art ;  so  that  if  an  artist  happens  to  try  to  render  these  meta- 
physical ideas  by  means  of  stone  and  iron,  he  is  led  to  compose 
veritable  enigmas,  or  to  sacrifice  absolute  essentials  and  impera- 
tive necessities  to  the  expression  of  a  philosophical  idea  which, 
when  all  is  done  that  can  be  done,  nobody  discovers,  and  which 
Avould  require  several  pages  of  explanation  or  the  aid  of  a 
cicerone  to  make  it  mtelligible. 

But  to  return  to  sculpture  :  it  seems  to  me  that  the  name  of 
monumental  statuary  can  be  applied  only  to  that  of  which  all 
the  parts  are  connected  with  the  architecture  both  in  the  idea 
generally  and  in  the  details  of  the  execution.  Egyptian  scvilp- 
ture,  that  of  Greece  and  that  of  the  Middle  Ages,  succeeded, 
by  different  means,  in  fulfilling  these  imperative  conditions,  and 
the  last  in  date,  the  Media3val,  without  abandoning  the  principle, 
flirnished  probably  the  greatest  variety  of  expressions  that  can 
be  obtained.  From  the  middle  of  the  twelfth  century  to  the 
end  of  the  thirteenth,  this  French  ai-t  produced  in  unparalleled 
abundance  a  multitude  of  architectural  works  in  which  the 
statuary,  even  when  of  mediocre  execution,  produces  effects 
whose  grandeur  is  incontestable.  Need  I  mention  the  doorways 
of  the  abbeys  of  Moissac  and  Vezelay,  the  lateral  porches  of 
Notre  Dame  at  Chartres,  of  the  Cathedral  of  Bourges,  of  the 
church  of  St.  Seurin  at  Bordeaux,  those  of  the  portal  of  the 
Cathedi-al  of  Amiens,  and  the  facade  of  Notre  Dame  in  Paris  ? 
Who  is  not  familiar  with  or  does  not  possess  engravangs  or 
photographs  of  these  conceptions,  so  marvellous  both  in  archi- 
tecture and  sculpture, — conceptions  in  which  the  iconography 
is  so  well  designed  and  the  scale-relations  so  intelligently 
observed  ?  But  let  us  consider  specimens  of  less  pretension. 
The  merit  of  a  style  of  art  is  exhibited,  not  in  certain  magnificent 
conce2')tions  in  which  resources  of  all  kinds  have  abomided,  but 
in  works  of  a  secondary  rank.  An  age  which  side  by  side  with 
edifices  of  unparalleled  splendour,  excessive  luxury,  and  an 
exaggerated  display  of  wealth,  erects  contemptible  constructions 
worthy  of  barbarians — so  ill  designed  are  they,  so  ill  executed  and 


LECTURE  XVI.  231 

shapeless — cannot  pass  for  an  age  of  art.  Art  requires  a  breadth 
of  atmosphere  to  enable  it  to  exist.  If  it  is  reared  in  a  hot-house 
it  is  only  a  curiosity,  an  amusement,  or  an  object  of  study  for  the 
privileged  few.  Imagine  a  landlord  building  a  magnificent 
conservatory,  and  devoting  all  his  means  and  employing 
all  the  labour  at  his  disposal  in  raising  the  rarest  plants  in 
that  conservatory,  but  letting  thistles  and  briers  cover  his 
fields ;  should  we  riot  rather  see  the  conservatory  destroyed  and 
the  land  producing  fine  woods,  harvests,  and  vintages  ?  Our 
position  as  regards  architecture  is  in  this  country  something  like 
that  of  such  a  landlord ;  we  have  a  magnificent  conservatoiy, 
but  too  many  thistles  in  its  neighbourhood.  The  Ufe  of  this  art, 
which  was  formerly  difiaxsed  throughout  our  land,  is  concentrated 
in  a  conservatoiy  heated  and  cultivated  at  great  expense ;  yet 
after  all  we  should  certainly  prefer  to  take  our  walks  in  groves 
flourishing  in  the  open  air  than  beneath  foliage  protected  by 
glass. 

As  regards  sculpture,— supposing  that  we  are  even  too  severe 
in  our  judgment  in  the  case  of  two  or  three  of  our  great  cities, — 
when  it  makes  its  appearance,  as  it  sometimes  does,  in  owe  pi'o- 
vincial  municij^alities,  is  it  not  grotesque  ?  Or  if,  thanks  to  the 
liberality  of  some  corporate  body,  it  figures  on  a  facade,  has  it 
any  kind  of  connection  with  the  building  ?  Buying  a  statue  at 
an  Exhibition,  packing  it  up,  sending  it  a  couple  of  hundred 
miles  to  be  placed  in  a  niche  made  in  a  wall  ready  for  anything 
to  fiU  it, — this  is  what  is  called  encouraging  the  arts  I  Certainly 
it  is  encouraging  the  artist  to  produce  a  second  statue,  in  the 
hope  that  it  will  have  the  same  good  luck  as  the  first.  .  .  . 
But  ai-t, — what  has  that  to  do  in  the  matter?  Yet  that  is  what 
most  of  our  sculptors  are  working  for ;  I  am  speaking  only  of 
those  who  have  real  talent.  To  make  a  statue,  or  a  group,  at 
leisure  in  their  studios,  and  to  see  the  article  purchased  hj  a 
corporate  body  to  be  set  somewhere — neither  the  artist  who 
sells  it,  nor  the  corporate  body  that  buys  it,  knows  where. 
Some  place  or  other  will  be  found  for  it!  And  "d  statue 
donnee.  .  .  ."  Are  such  methods  of  procedure  likely  to  foi-m  a 
school  of  monumental  sculpture  ? 

Are  these  methods  in  vogvie,  or  are  they  not  ?  Is  there  any 
exaggei'ation  in  the  above  ?  Lately  some  reforms  in  the  domam 
of  the  arts  have  been  talked  about.  Do  the  public  know  what 
questions  have  been  raised  among  artists  in  consequence  1  They 
have  talked  about  an  Exhibition, — that  is,  the  organisation  of  a 
vast  bazaar.  Some  are  of  opinion  that  all  should  be  free  to 
exhibit,  others  wish  for  a  selecting  jvny  ;  several — -and  they  are 
not  the  most  illogical  in  their  proposal — supposing  that  the  way  in 
which  the  republic  of  arts  is  governed  at  present  is  reasonable — ■ 


232  LECTURES  ON  ARCHlTECrURE. 

claim  special  Exhibitions  for  the  Institute  and  .  .  .  its  associates  ! 
Such  a  suggestion  has  actually  been  made  ;  it  is  no  invention  of 
mine.  But  no  one  has  thought  of  inquiring  whether  there  is 
not  something  of  niore  urgent  importance  to  be  tried  :  whether 
the  State  ought  to  continue  to  act  the  schoolmaster  towards 
artists,  under  the  tutelage  of  a  coterie,  or  whether  it  would  not 
be  more  i-easonable  to  leave  this  function  to  private  enterprise. 
A  Minister  is  found  who  undertakes  during  an  impulse  of 
liberalism  to  give  liberty  to  artists.  Each  coterie  in  art  begins 
to  think  how  it  can  organise  that  liberty  to  its  own  advantage  ; 
the  Institute  first,  of  course.  Organise  Liherty !  A  strange 
combination  of  terms.  To  organise  liberty  is  equivalent  to 
saying  to  any  one :  "  You  will  be  at  liberty  to  get  up  at  seven 
o'clock,  to  go  at  eight  to  the  Boulevard  des  Itahens,  to  break- 
last  at  ten  at  the  Maison  d'Or,  and  to  go  to  Mr.  X.'s  at  twelve, 
who  will  give  you  lessons  during  the  rest  of  the  day." 

Thanks  to  the  regime  under  which  artists  have  long  accus- 
tomed themselves  to  live,  this  is  what  they  are  asking  under 
various  forms.  But  there  is  one  very  natural  way  of  giving 
artists  this  liberty,  if  there  is  really  a  wish  to  give  it,  i.e. 
for  the  Government  to  say  to  them :  "  You  are  free  .  .  .  and 
so  am  I.  Work,  enjoy  all  the  success  you  can,  give  yourselves 
heartily  to  your  calling ;  I  shall  be  the  first  to  encourage  such 
talents  as  manifest  themselves,  and  to  consider  those  who  pro- 
duce works  having  a  value  recognised  by  all,  as  citizens  useful 
to  the  State.  But  in  the  name  of  Art,  I  beg  you  to  provide 
yourselves  with  instruction  and  tutorage  in  your  own  fasliion, 
if  you  wish  to  be  tutored  I" 

It  follows  therefore  that  during  those  periods  of  slavery,  when 
the  arts  were  not  organised  by  the  State,  and  when  the  State 
had  neither  an  Academy  to  protect  or  to  humour,  nor  a  School 
to  maintain,  nor  Exhibitions  for  Rome  or  Athens  to  be  arranged 
for,  nor  directors  or  inspectors  to  appoint,  nor  criticism  to  be 
experienced  on  the  part  of  the  artists  themselves  or  of  the  public 
respecting  matters  of  art,  there  were  nevertheless  monuments 
erected  in  which  statuary  was  not  spared.  On  some  of  these 
erections  sculptured  figures  may  be  reckoned,  not  by  hundreds, 
but  by  thousands.  The  number  is  not  the  important  considera- 
tion ;  it  only  shows  that  the  sculptors  had  plenty  to  do.  But 
what  is  more  to  the  point  is  that  this  vast  quantity  is  so  distri- 
buted as  to  give  effect  to  the  whole,  and  that  the  whole  being 
satlsfactoiy,  clear,  and  easy  of  comprehension,  its  general  character 
is  reflected  back  in  each  detail,  and  that  these  works  which  might 
be  considered  mediocre  when  isolated,  are  not  prejudicial  to  the 
general  effect,  but  take  their  position  in  it  without  offending  the 
eye.     There  is  no  need,  I  say  once  more,  to  give  representations 


c 


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w.  i;i:c.i.isi':  dI'.  s'"  i'ii-:i;iii-:  sous  vi7.iu,\y 


LECTURE  XVI.  233 

of  these  gigantic  works,  thoroughly  familiar  as  they  are  to  every 
one,  in  order  to  make  these  excellencies  of  combination  manifest. 
It  will  serve  our  purpose  better  to  select  a  modest  edifice  in  a 
remote  quarter  between  Burgundy  and  the  Nivernais.  In  its 
restricted  limits  we  shall  be  better  able  to  appreciate  the  relations 
of  the  architectural  composition,  in  Avhich  sculpture  Jjlays  an 
important  part.  I  refer  to  the  frunt  of  the  little  church  of  St. 
Pierre  sous  Vezelay.'  Plate  XXX.  gives  the  whole  of  the  upper 
part  of  the  front,  the  lower  part  of  which  has  been  masked  by  a 
very  projecting  porch  of  a  more  recent  period.  This  front  belongs 
to  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth  century,  and  is  built  of  a  hard 
stone  with  a  fine  golden  tone.  Originally  it  was  painted  all 
over.  The  general  subject  scarcely  needs  to  be  explained.  At 
the  top,  Christ,  seated,  is  being  crowned  by  two  angels ;  beneath 
his  feet  is  St.  Stephen,  the  patron  of  the  diocese  ;  at  his  side  the 
Virgin  and  Saint  Anna ;  next  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul ;  St.  John, 
St.  Andrew,  and  two  other  apostles.  Nothmg  is  wanting  in 
tills  composition  ;  neither  the  complete  connection  with  the  lines 
of  the  architecture,  which,  far  from  distiu-bing,  it  emphasises  ;  nor 
the  due  relation  of  the  statues  to  the  whole  composition ;  nor 
clearness,  nor  execution.  The  gable,  arranged  with  a  view  to 
mask  the  roof,  surmounts  a  rose  window  which  lights  the  nave ; 
which  rose  window,  with  its  strong  archivolt  bearing  this  gable, 
is  pierced  above  a  beautiful  doorway  formerly  ornamented  by 
three  statues.  Two  spires — one  only  is  complete — terminated 
this  dignified  composition,  and  entered  into  combination  with  its 
principal  lines.  As  will  be  observed,  all  the  figures  are  sheltered, 
and  are  thus  prevented  from  being  stained  by  the  rain,  as  too 
often  happens  in  our  modem  buildings.  Clearness,  which  is 
the  chief  requisite  in  every  work  of  art,  is  indisputable  here. 

That  the  style  of  the  building  is  not,  as  we  allow,  to  the  taste 
of  some  architects — the  reason  being  that  it  possesses  excellencies 
in  which  they  are  absolutely  wanting — does  not  affect  the  point 
in  question.  I  am  calling  attention  to  the  general  arrangement, 
scale-relations,  the  harmony  between  the  lines  of  the  architec- 
ture and  the  character  of  the  sculpture  ;  I  am  intending  to  show 
how  those  mediaeval  artists,  even  of  the  humblest  order,  were 
able  to  come  to  an  understanding  with  each  other,  so  as  to  obtain 
a  general  effect  for  which  two  ai-ts  must  concur.  This  and  none 
other  is  the  principle  to  be  observed.  The  sculpture  is  not  here 
a  superaddition, — something  not  contemplated  from  the  first, — 
a  collection  of  pieces  taken  from  various  studios  :  it  belongs  to 
the  architecture  as  the  members  of  the  buildings  itself  belong 
to  it.     This  is  aU  we  wish  to  demonstrate. 

It  is  not  in  their  buildings  alone  that  this  intimate  union  of 

'  Department  of  Yoime,  ten  miles  from  Avallou. 


234 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


Fi ;.  1.— Sculpture  Ornamentation  in  the  Middle  Ages. 


X 
X 

X 


V 


y 


y 


2"- 


COU  f\S    D  'Al^H  ITF.CTU  l^F. 


y\.    XXX! 


J 


/.'.  VatUet-le-Ou-  ,*/ 


I'oi-^ri'  1)1'  (,iivii-.Ai    i)h:  i..\  i"i-;i(i"i'  -Wii.oN 


LECTURE  XVI.  235 

the  two  arts  among  medigeval  workers  can  be  traced — a  union 
tending  to  enhance  the  effect  of  both, — but  also  in  many  com- 
positions to  which  they  certamly  attached  no  importance  :  we 
tind  it  in  the  vignettes  of  manuscripts,  for  example.  And  it  is 
when  the  arts  reproduce  their  expression  in  works  of  every  kind, 
not  in  some  exceptional  objects  only,  that  we  can  appreciate  their 
real  value,  and  say  that  they  have  become  a  kind  of  habit,  that 
they  emanate  from  a  pi'inciple  recognised  and  understood  by  all. 
In  the  Bibliothcque  Imperiale  there  is  a  manuscript  of  the 
close  of  the  fifteenth  century,  filled  with  miniatures  of  no  great 
account  in  point  of  execution,  but  in  which  the  artist  has 
thought  fit  to  introduce  a  great  number  of  buildings.  It  is  a 
Livy  in  French.  The  painter,  doubtless  under  the  impression 
that  the  buildmgs  of  ancient  Rome  were  covered  with  sculp- 
tures, thought  himself  obhged  to  put  a  great  number  of  bas- 
reliefs  or  statues  on  his  architecture.  Moreover,  the  buildings 
he  portrays  belong  entirely  to  his  own  age,  and  are  Northern 
French  in  style.  Well,  this  miniature  painter  has  in  every 
case  succeeded  m  placing  the  statuary  on  his  houses,  palaces, 
temples,  towers,  etc.,  in  the  happiest  and  most  picturesque 
manner  possible,  to  such  an  extent  was  the  habit  of  doing 
so  still  preserved  among  our  artists.  A  belfry  tower,  for 
example,  was  to  be  drawn  ;  the  miniature  painter,  who  coidd 
afibrd  to  be  lavish  of  sculpture,  conceived  the  idea  of  adorning 
this  tower  (fig.  1)  with  two  zones  of  statuary  in  full  relief. 
Have  we  not  here  a  true  idea  clearly  and  frankly  expressed  ? 
Certainly  this  artist,  who  was  no  great  genius,  did  not  ransack 
his  brains  to  mvent  this  design  :  it  was  only  the  unconscious 
expression,  so  to  speak,  of  the  art-ideas  current  at  the  time,  and 
these  ideas  were  just.  Besides,  he  cUd  nothing  more  than  repro- 
duce compositions  similar  to  those  which  met  his  eyes.  The 
gateway  of  the  Chateau  de  la  Ferte-Milon  fui-nishes  proof 
of  this.  This  portal  is  one  of  the  finest  conceptions  of  feudal 
architecture  in  the  Middle  Ages,  which  is  so  varied  in  character, 
and  in  which  the  decorative  parts  harmonise  so  well  with  the 
imperative  necessities  of  defence,  and  the  severe  asjiect  which 
is  ajjpropriate  to  buildings  of  this  kind.  Plate  XXXI.  gives 
the  perspective  view  of  this  gateway,  whose  plan  and  section  are 
given,  to  make  the  whole  more  intelligible,  in  figure  2.  This 
drawing  shows  that  the  large  archway  which  unites  the  two  great 
towers  is  an  immense  machicolation  adorned  outside  with  a  bas- 
relief  representing  the  crowning  of  the  Virgin.  In  the  castles 
built  by  Louis  of  Orleans,  about  the  year  1400,  there  is  always  a 
design  taken  from  the  history  of  the  Virgin  on  the  facade.  At 
Pierrefonds  it  is  the  Annunciation.  This  is,  however,  of  little 
importance ;    it   is   the    composition  viewed  as  scvilpture  w  ith 


236 


LECTURES  ON  A  RCUITECTURE. 


Fiu.  2.  — Gutcnv:!)-  of  llie  Cliiik'au  ilc  la  Fi-iic-Milon. 


LECTURE  XVI.  237 

which  we  are  here  concerned.     Each  of  the  towers  was  more- 
over adorned  with  a  colossal  statue  of  one  of  the  nine  Freuses,^ 
in  the  same  way  as  in  the  Chateau  de  Pierrefonds  the  towers 
were    ornamented    by   tlie    statues    of  the  Freicx :    this  was  a 
method  of  designating  them, — giving  them  a  name.     It  will  be 
observed  that  the  niches  which  surround  these  statues  are  placed 
laterally,  and  on  the  same  side  relatively  to  the  salient  projec- 
tions   or    buttresses    whicli    fortify    these    towers   against    sap- 
ping, and  strengthen  the  llankings.     An  arrangement  suggested 
by    defensive    precautions   has    caused    these    buttresses   to   be 
placed  obliquely  (see  the  plan),  and  the  architect  has  placed 
the  statues  on  the  side  which  fronts  that  part  of  the  neighbour- 
hood whence  the  castle  was  most  seen.     We  have  artists  here 
who  concern   themselves  little  with  symmetry,  but  who  have 
a  marvellous  appreciation  of  picturesque  effect,  which  the  Greeks 
did  not  disdain.     This  placard  style  of  decoration  on  the  walls 
of  a  tower  may  seem  strange  to  some,   and  will  appear  not 
to  have  required   any  great  effort  of  imagination.       But   it  is 
precisely  this   audacity  (if  I  may  be   allowed    the   term),   this 
defiant  simplicity  of  design,  which  infallibly  produces  its  effect. 
This  is  one  of  those  naivetes  which  characterise  people  who  know 
very  well  what  they  are  about,  and  what  they  mean  to  accom- 
plish ;  and  it  is  by  no  means  so  easy  to  be  naif- — in  the  modern 
acceptation  of  the  word — as   many  persons   suppose,    without 
falling  into  a  folse  simplicity,  which  of  all  affectations  is  the  most 
intolerable.     And  while  the  composition  of  sculpture  applied  to 
public  buildings  during  the  best  mediteval  period  in  France  is 
noteworthy  in  respect  of  the  frankness  with  which  the  design  is 
carried  out,  and  its  perfect  accordance  with  the  structure,  the 
execution    is    not    less   worthy  of  attention,  for  the  execution 
always  harmonises  with  the  place  and  the  object.     The  artists 
worked  on  the  edifice  itself,  or  close  by  it,  without  ever  losing 
sight  of  the  position  their  work  was  to  occupy  ;  and,  careful  to 
make  their  works  accord  with  the  architecture,  they  seemed  to 
conceive  and  to  execute  their  designs  under  the  influence  of  one 
single  idea.      I  should  not  dare  to  assert  that  the  architect  had 
authority  and  knowledge  sufficient  to  superintend  the  sculptvu-al 
design  and  the  execution  himself ;  but  the  result  shows  that  the 
undei'standing  between  him   and   the  sculj^tors  was  sufliciently 
perfect  to  suggest  the  idea  of  a  single  directing  power.     We 
cannot  doubt  that  such  an  understanding  existed   among  the 

1  The  Preuses, — nine  femiuine  types  of  knighthood  in  the  Miildle  Ages  ;  their  names 
(partly  recognisable  in  Classic  story)  were  :  Tnvimarin,  queen  of  Egypt,  Dei/cmmc, 
l^nm/irf'tlo,  Hippobilf,  queen  of  the  Amazons,  Samramis,  I'nilJicsilca,  Tancfjua,  Deisille, 
and  Afeiialippr'.  The  Preu.c, — nine  masculine  types  of  knighthood  ;  their  names  were  : 
Ji>K/iua,  David,  Judas  ilccmhiriis,  Alexander  tht  Oreal,  JJcrlor  of  Troij,  Julius  Casar, 
Charlemagne,  Arthur,  and  Godc/roi/  de  Bouillon. — Tr. 


238  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

Greeks — a  circumstance  which  in  no  way  detracted  from  tlie 
vahie  of  the  sculpture.  Sculptors  are  therefore  mistaken  in 
supposing  that  they  should  confine  their  attention  to  the  piece 
of  statuary  intrusted  to  them,  and  that  the  merit  of  their  wt)rk 
is  independent  of  the  place  assigned  it.  But  we  will  quit  the 
subject  of  general  adaptation,  on  which  enough  has  been  said, 
and  discuss  the  execution. 

The  larger  the  scale  of  a  work  in  statuary,  and  the  farther 
from  the  eye  it  is  destined  to  be  placed,  the  more  simply  ought 
it  to  be  treated.  I  know  that  the  production  of  the  grand  and 
simple  is  no  easy  matter,  but  I  believe  that  I  am  justified  in 
saying  that  the  accomplishment  of  such  a  result  requires  very 
simple  means  in  the  execution.  Let  us  revert  to  Antiquity. 
The  Egyptians  treated  statuary  with  a  simplicity  proportioned 
to  the  size  of  the  scale.  And  we  observe  the  same  principle  in 
the  few  really  Greek  works  we  possess.  Those  admirable  artists 
pushed  to  its  utmost  limits  the  art  of  sacrificing  in  the  execution 
all  that  is  not  indispensable  to  the  expression  of  the  form. 
None  of  their  monuments  give  a  clearer  idea  of  the  way  in 
which  the  Ancients  were  able  to  treat  colossal  sculpture  than 
the  statues  cut  in  the  mountains  forming  the  entrance  to  the 
great  Speos  at  Abou  Sembil,  on  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  in  Nubia.^ 
The  grand  characteristic  luies  of  the  figures  are  alone  pre- 
served ;  the  type  only  is  retained  intact ;  all  that  is  mere  detail 
is  suppressed.  And  yet  if  we  examine  these  colossi  attentively, 
we  shall  perceive  that  the  execution  is  extremely  delicate  ;  the 
shaping  is  at  once  broad  and  fine,  treated  con  amove,  but 
without  the  artist  allowing  himself,  though  master  of  his  chisel, 
to  be  led  into  doing  more  than  was  absolutely  necessary. 
Some  fragments  of  colossal  Egyptian  statues,  cut  in  granite  and 
deposited  in  the  British  Museum,  exhibit  the  same  excellencies 
in  a  still  higher  degree.  We  have  always  a  simple  profile, 
easy  to  be  perceived  and  engraven  in  the  memory,  and  a  shaping 
which  seems  to  clothe  the  details  with  an  envelope,  allowing 
them  to  be  surmised,  but  clearly  exhibiting  only  the  princijml 
features. 

We  find  also  these  essentially  monumental  characteristics  in 
the  nude  figures  on  the  tympanum  of  the  Parthenon,  with  a 
beauty  in  the  selection  of  the  forms  which  human  genius  cannot 
surpass. 

Moreover,  in  the  best  monumental  sculptures  of  Antiquity, 
we  never  see  a  violent  or  false  gesture,  or  an  expression  savour- 
ing of  grimace.  We  have  here  a  sifting,  as  it  were,  of  the 
works  of  nature,  in  which  insignificant  details  and  vulgar 
points  are  put   aside  so  that   the  principal  idea, — that  which 

'  See  the  Atlas  dcs  Photographies  de  VBijijpte,  published  by  M.  Felix  Tcynaril. 


LECTURE  XVI.  239 

deserves  to  arrest  the  mind,  and  which  manifests  the  conception 
by  the  simplest  process, — may  alone  be  expressed.  To  fulfil  these 
conditions,  the  artist  must  not  only  possess  manual  skill  but 
have  comprehended  the  philosophical  aspect  of  his  art,  if  we  may 
so  term  it  ;  he  must  have  analysed  the  effects  produced  on 
beings  animated  by  instincts,  passions,  and  feelings,  and  must 
have  known  how  to  distinguish  from  among  such  effects  those 
which  have  really  an  immediate  connection  wdth  the  individual 
organism,  from  those  which  result  from  social  habitudes.  The 
lower  animals  never  make  a  false  gestiu'e ;  we  cannot  say 
as  much  for  man,  whom  his  education,  social  envnonment, 
ch'ess,  and  the  fashion  of  the  day,  often  reduce  to  the  condition 
of  a  cleverly-jomted  puppet.  But  he  who  can  look  within  this 
puppet — and  we  may  take  for  granted  that  there  were  some 
such  at  Athens — will  discover  the  man,  the  reality  ;  as,  beneath 
caprices,  foUies,  and  vices  we  may  find  the  human  conscience. 
Skill,  in  the  case  of  the  sculptor,  as  in  that  of  the  mental  philo- 
sopher, consists  in  searching  for  and  discovering,  the  former  the 
true  gesture,  the  real  material  expression  of  a  feehng,  the  other 
that  innermost  recess  in  the  soul  which  does  not  change,  and 
to  which  we  accord  the  name  Conscience.  Some  critics  are 
severe  in  their  condemnation  of  Realism,  and  perhaps  their 
severity  is  justifiable ;  but  they  shordd  say  in  what  respect  it  is 
blameworthy,  a  thing  they  rarely  do.  To  blame  Realism  because 
it  assumes  to  take  Nature  just  as  it  is,  and  to  reproduce  it 
literally,  is  to  reply  by  rejieating  the  question  itself,  and  to  offer 
no  solution.  The  fact  is  that  Realism  is  no  nearer  to  Nature  than 
is  a  mere  academical  model.  The  one  perceives  and  reproduces 
nothing  more  than  an  appearance,  which  is  not  the  ti-uth  ;  the 
other  puts  in  place  of  it  a  conventional  form  iniderstood  only  by 
those  to  whom  that  form  has  become  familiar,  and  for  whom  it 
can  be  substituted  for  Nature.  I  will  endeavour  to  make  myself 
understood  by  an  example. 

You  see  a  person  who  is  in  appearance  vulgar,  and  whose 
features  are  ii-regular :  but  beneath  these  features  and  appear- 
ance there  is  an  expression,  a  result  of  habit,  which  dominates 
the  whole  ;  we  have  what  is  called  the  physiognomy.  Now  the 
painter  or  the  sculptor  who  possesses  talent  can  produce  a  real 
portrait  of  this  person, — a  portrait  more  true  than  nature  itself, 
— if  he  seizes  that  physiognomy,  that  dominant  expression  ;  if 
he  brings  it  into  prominence  while  disregarding  the  vidgar  or 
repulsive  details  through  which  it  has  difficulty  in  making  its 
way ;  and  he  will  produce  a  work  of  art.  The  Realist,  or  at 
least  he  to  whom  this  epithet  is  applied,  will  allow  himself  to  be 
so  dominated  by  the  coarse  envelope  ;  he  will  render  it  with  so 
absolute  a  material  truth, — a  scepticism  so  absolute, — that  his 


240  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

production  will  exhibit  no  trace  of  that  passing  flame  which 
sometimes  illuminates  the  original.  He  will  not,  it  is  true, 
have  substituted  a  conventional  type  for  the  original,  but 
he  will  have  painted  the  lantern  without  introducing  the  light 
it  holds.  One  of  the  most  profoundly  cherished  pleasures 
of  the  artist  is  to  regard  with  attention  a  person  who  passes 
for  plain,  awkward,  or  uncultivated,  and  to  discover  in  this 
model,  presented  to  him  by  chance,  springs  of  beauty  and 
grace  which  escape  the  notice  of  most  people,  and  to  say 
to  himself  that  with  these  imperfect  elements  a  remarkably 
beautiful  work  might  be  j^i'oduced  ;  and  to  consider  by  what 
succession  of  eflbrts,  and  with  what  labour  of  elimination 
and  selection,  he  could  arrive  at  this  result.  This  is  the 
method  of  observation  according  to  which  the  Greeks  proceeded. 
For  they  were  as  fai"  removed — i.e.  during  their  best  periods 
• — from  commonplace  conventionality  as  from  coarse  realism. 
While  they  knew  how  to  seek  for  and  discover  the  beautiful 
even  amid  the  repulsive — and  to  find  the  beautiful,  one  only 
needs  to  be  a  passionate  lover  of  it, — they  had  an  aversion  for 
mere  copying.  The  beautiful  lives  in  the  Greek  ;  it  is  not  merely 
embalmed,  but  it  hves  in  virtue  of  a  careful  selection,  by  setting 
aside  what  niight  tarnish  it  with  affectation  or  vulgarity,  con- 
temptible details  and  puerile  refinements ;  and  it  is  as  much 
in  point  of  execution  as  composition  that  Greek  sculpture 
entered  on  this  path,  being,  however,  the  first  to  abandon 
archaic  traditions  and  to  emancipate  art  from  them.  It  was 
indeed  not  long  able  to  maintain  itself  in  this  lofty  position, 
but  the  value  of  a  period  of  art  is  not  limited  to  its  duration. 
It  remains  for  us  to  treat  of  the  conditions  under  which  monu- 
mental statuary  produces  certain  preconceived  efiects. 

We  need  scarcely  remind  our  readers  that  it  is  light  which 
gives  its  effect  to  statuary.  The  sculptor  should  therefore  take 
account  of  the  result  it  will  produce  in  his  work.  It  is  evident, 
for  instance,  that  a  statue  illuminated  directly  by  the  sun's  rays 
will  have  cpiite  a  dift'erent  appearance  from  what  it  would  have 
if  lighted  by  reflection ;  the  execution  of  the  statue  should 
therefore  be  different  in  the  one  case  from  what  it  would  be  in 
the  other.  But  if,  as  often  happens,  the  statue  is  carved  with- 
out the  artist's  knowing  the  place  that  will  be  allotted  it,  how 
can  he  take  account  of  this  difference  in  executing  it  ?  and  if  he 
does  not  take  account  of  it,  will  chance  be  sufficient  to  rely  on  ? 
I  do  not  believe  the  Greeks  carved  statues  without  having  their 
destination  precisely  determined,  before  the  time  of  the  Roman 
dominion, — i.e.  before  the  invasion  of  the  Roman  amateurs,  who 
had  more  vanity  than  taste  for  art.  I  am  certain,  from  the 
examples  now  existing,  that  the  sculptors  in  the  Middle  Ages 


LECTURE  XVI.  241 

never  carved  a  statue  or  a  bas-relief  without  knowing  where 
their  works  would  be  placed.  In  this  respect  it  is  they  who 
might  justly  regard  us  as  barbarians.  Beneath  the  sky  of  Attica 
the  atmosphere  is  so  perfectly  transparent,  and  the  light  so 
brilliant,  that  the  artists  of  that  country  could  reckon  on 
constant  efiects  of  hght  and  shade  which  are  unattainable  in  our 
less  favoured  climate.  But  it  must  jJso  be  observed  that  to  give 
their  statuary  its  full  effect,  even  when  cut  in  white  marble,  they 
required  the  aid  of  painting.  Thus  the  grounds  of  the  metoj^es 
and  tympanums  were  always  painted,  and  the  figures  them- 
selves were  at  least  set  off  and  adorned  with  painted,  gilded,  or 
metallic  accessories.  There  was  therefore  no  reason  to  fear  lest 
at  a  distance  these  sculptures  should  be  lost  in  the  shadows 
thrown  by  the  projection  of  the  cornices.  Besides,  we  can  easily 
see  that  the  sculptors  took  account  of  the  position  and  of  the 
ditierence  between  direct  and  reflected  light,  from  the  manner 
in  which  the  figm-e  is  treated.  This  is  clearly  evident,  for  ex- 
ample, in  the  mterior  friezes  of  the  portico  of  the  Parthenon, 
which  could  never  be  lighted  except  by  reflected  rays,  or  seen 
except  from  immediately  below.  The  surfaces  intended  to 
catch  the  light  so  as  to  bring  the  form  into  due  relief  are  often 
inclined  in  a  contraiy  direction  to  the  natural  shape.  The 
caryatides  of  the  Pandrosium  placed  in  full  light  are  treated  in 
such  a  manner  that  the  parts  which  strongly  exhibit  the  posture 
present  wide  smooth  surfaces,  while  those  which  are  to  be  kept 
in  the  background  are  covered  with  details  which  always  give 
shadow  wherever  the  light  moy  come  from.^  The  same  princijile 
may  be  observed  in  the  beautiful  fragments  taken  from  the  little 
temple  of  the  Wingless  Victorv,  which  was  likewise  exposed  to 
full  %ht. 

But  the  north  of  France  is  not  under  such  favourable  atmo- 
spheric conditions.  Sunlight  is  often  absent ;  and  thick  fogs 
make  the  solar  rays  feeble  and  pallid.  If  kis-reliefs  were  placed 
on  one  of  our  buildings  in  the  same  position  as  the  friezes  of  the 
portico  of  the  Parthenon,  we  should  see  them  perhaps  for  a 
fortnight  altogether  in  the  year  ;  during  the  rest  of  the  time 
these  sculptures  would  be  plunged  in  obscurity.  In  our  country 
therefore,  sculptors  would  be  obliged  to  adopt  a  very  difterent 
plan.  While  on  account  of  the  intensity  of  the  light  the  Greeks 
thought  it  necessary  to  colour  the  backgrounds  of  their  bas-reliefs 
in  order  that  the  parts  of  the  latter  which  were  in  light  might 
not  be  confounded  with  those  backgrounds,  this  expedient  in 
oui'  country  would  not  be  suflicient  from  the  contrary  cause, 
viz.,  the  diffusion  of  the  light.  The  figures  themselves  must 
have   a   relief   sufficiently   strong   to   enable   them    to   detach 

'  See  the  seventh  Lecture,  fig.  15. 
VOL.  II.  0 


2  12  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

themselves  from  the  backgrounds  independently  of  the  coloiu-- 
ino"  of  the  latter :  or  the  backofrounds  themselves  must  have 
an  intensity  distinguishing  them  well  from  the  figures  by 
diaperings  or  powderings.  The  free  surfaces  of  these  back- 
grounds must  also  have  been  reduced  as  much  as  possible, 
in  order  to  cover  them  with  shadows  by  the  strong  projection 
given  to  the  figures.  And  this  the  sculptor  of  the  twelfth  and 
thirteenth  centuries  never  failed  to  do. 

These  artists  had  observed  that  a  statue  isolated  in  front  of 
a  line  of  wall  in  our  climate  soon  gets  a  darker  colouring  thjm 
that  of  the  background,  and  that  instead  of  standing  out 
brightly  on  it,  it  forms  a  dark  spot,- — a  veiy  disagreeable  effect ; 
so  they  very  rarely  placed  statues  in  such  a  position,  and  when 
they  thought  necessary  to  do  so  they  always  accompanied  these 
figures  by  supports  or  very  salient  ujarights  and  canopies,  which, 
while  they  sheltered  them,  gave  them  a  sufficiently  toned 
surrounding  to  allow  them  to  stand  out  clearly.  We  may  also 
imagine  statues  advantageously  placed  along  a  smooth  line  of 
wall  though  destitute  of  a  surrounding  that  would  give  them  a 
dark  background,  because  the  shadows  thrown  by  these  figures 
themselves  on  the  line  of  wall  -will  detach  them  and  give  them 
sufficient  relief  But  what  effect  do  we  suppose  can  be  obtained 
if  we  place  statues  in  front  of  a  wall  pierced  with  windows,  for 
example  ?  These  statues  stained  with  damp  and  casting  no 
shadow  on  the  distant  wall,  standing  out  sometimes  against  a 
pier,  sometimes  against  a  window,  will  produce  in  perspective  only 
the  appearance  of  confused  and  disagreeable  spots,  offendmg  the 
eye.  This  unfortunate  effect  is  only  too  evident  on  the  interior 
facades  of  the  new  Louvre  above  the  portico,  and  we  may  rest 
assured  that  the  architecture  would  gain  by  the  removal  of  an 
ornamentation  as  inappropriate  as  it  is  costly.  The  execution  of 
figures  thus  placed  must  at  any  rate  be  treated  with  extreme 
simplicity ;  it  must  present  to  the  daylight  broad  sm-faces 
adajJted  to  arrest  the  sun's  rays,  conditions  to  which  the  sculp- 
tors who  have  cut  these  figures  in  their  studios  have  not  thought 
21  roper  to  subject  themselves,  and  which  the  architect,  occupied 
with  other  cares,  has  not  thought  fit  to  impose  on  them. 

We  could  wish  that  architects  and  sculptors  who  consider 
the  study  of  the  •  antique  as  the  first,  most  essential,  and  most 
fertile  in  results — in  which  they  are  right — should  at  least  put 
in  practice  those  principles  which  ancient  works  most  clearly  ex- 
hibit. But  they  ai'e  far  from  doing  so.  This  love  of  the  antique 
is  purely  Platonic  ;  or  rather  it  establishes  a  kind  of  privilege  or 
monopoly,  vmder  cover  of  which  those  who  turn  the  monopoly  to 
their  own  account  with  the  sanction  of  the  Government  allow 
themselves  the  most  singular  eccentricities.     They  make  tiieir 


LECTURE  XVI.  243 

appeal  to  antiquity  aud  jJi'onounce  jjompous  eulogiums  on  its 
arts  in   academical   discourses, — but   without   examining   tlieir 
merits,  which  it  would  be  dangerous  for  them  to  do,  as  it  miglit 
lead  to  iinfortunate  comparisons ;    they  usurp,  as  it   were,   an 
exclusive  right  of  speaking  of  ancient  art,  and  aftect  to  despise 
all  that  lies  outside  the  pale  of  that  art  embodied  as  a  dogma 
which  must  be  believed  without  examination.     They  profess  to 
consider  the  schools  of  Rome  and  Athens  as  corner-stones  of 
education  in  tlie  arts  ;  but  when  it  comes  to  practice,  the  in- 
struction thus  derived  seems  to  have  been  of  scarcely  any  use  to 
those  who  extol  it  so  highly.     This  reminds  us  of  that  kind  of 
hypocrisy  which  is  pretty  much  in  vogue  nowadays,  which  con- 
sists in  observing  religious  duties  as  far  as  appearance  goes,  {  e. 
before  childi-en,  the  poor  people  in  the  village,  and  servants,  but 
throwing  oif  the  mask    in  the   society  of  our  equals.      If  you 
admii-e  ancient  art,  why  not  adopt  its  most  essential  principles  in 
your  own  works  ?     On  the  other  hand,  if  you  do  not  adopt  them, 
why  set  yourselves  up  for  high  j^riests  of  its  arts  and  the  sole  par- 
ticipants in  its  mysteries  ?     Observe,  I  do  not  insist  on  its  being 
necessary  to  imitate  antiquity  servilely,  but  only  to  build  on  its 
principles,  which  are,  moreover,  the  principles  of  art  in  all  its  best 
periods.     We  must,  however,  have  a  clear  understanding  in  the 
matter,  and  not  be  constantly  equivocating.     I  woidd  not  say  that 
you  are  intentionally  speculating  on  the  credulity,  ignorance  or 
indifference  of  the  public,  and  behind  the  respectable  announce- 
ment that  appears  on  your  house-front,  allowing  youi'selves  all 
soi'ts  of  extravaganzas, — laughing  at  the   simple  public  which 
was  to  pay  for  them  ;  but  we  might  easily  believe  it  to  be  so. 
For  you  certainly  will  not  find  in  any  ancient  builduig,  or  even 
in  the  Renaissance  period,  and  most  assuredly  not  in  the  Middle 
Ages,  decorative  expedients  in  any  way  analogous  to  those  you 
generally  adopt  in  your  architecture.     I  see  in  the  latter — and  I 
am  not  the  only  one  who  does  so — only  a  feeble  reminiscence  of 
the  work  of  the  seventeenth  century,  without  its  grandeur  and 
unity ;  and  in  addition  an  aggravation  of  the  defects  inherent 
in  the  arts  of  that    period,  with  an  absolute  confusion  in  the 
design,  and  a  not  less  absolute  want  of  comprehension  of  decor- 
ative effects.     What,  for  instance,  is  the  meaning  of  those  heaps 
of  twisted   conglomerations  of   figiu-es  on   those    copings,  dis- 
torted to  such  a  degree,  that  with  the  help  of  damp  and  moss  it 
soon  becomes  difficult  to  make  anji;hing  of  those  convolutions  of 
bodies  and  limbs  ?      Do  we  see  anything   like  this  in  ancient 
work  ?     Certainly  not  ;    anything  intended  to  stand  out  in  pro- 
file on  the  sky  is  treated  m  the  simplest  and  most  easily  compre- 
hensible manner,  both  as  a  whole  and  in  its  details.     Have  we 
here  anything  new  ?    Does  this  belong  to  that  Art  of  the  Future 


2U  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

which  has  been  promised  us  ?  No  ;  for  we  have  discovered 
similar  abuses  in  the  worst  designs  of  ItaUan  art  at  the  dochne 
of  the  renaissance.  Is  this  what  you  have  gone  to  Rome  to 
study  ?  It  may  be  so  ;  but  then  do  not  say  anything  about 
ancient  art,  least  of  all  that  of  Greece  !  What  then  are  your 
principles  ?  Where  have  you  obtamed  them  ?  From  no  quar- 
ter. Are  they  derived  from  yoiur  own  imagination  ?  That 
is  equivalent  to  saying  you  have  no  principles  at  all  I  Then 
do  not  talk  to  us  of  great  traditions  and  the  necessity  of  pre- 
serving them.  Do  not  set  yourselves  up  for  licensed  defenders 
of  those  traditions  if  you  are  the  foremost  to  disregard  them  ; 
but  frankly  come  out  with  the  confession  that  you  are  makuig 
a  monopoly  of  this  uncritical  study  of  Antiquity  for  your  own 
advantage,  under  the  protection  of  the  Government  which  is 
simple  enough  to  believe  you,  on  your  own  unproved  assertion, 
to  be  the  indispensable  defenders  of  doctrines  which  you  do  not 
practise,  and  which  are  only  a  mask. 

Rarely  has  any  period  so  much  used  and  abused  sculpture  in 
public  buildings  as  our  own.  Has  the  result  to  the  public  been  a 
more  delicate  taste  oi-  a  more  determinate  judgment  in  matters  of 
art  ?  The  contrary  effect  has,  I  fear,  been  j^roduced.  The  public 
take  no  interest  in  the  separate  designs  which  interest  the  studios, 
unless  attention  is  loudly  called  to  some  particidar  works ;  it 
only  sees  and  judges  of  entii-e  compositions.  If  these  want 
clearness  or  harmony  it  passes  by  with  indifference,  and  in  its 
function  as  the  public  it  does  so  with  reason.  Artists  find  fault 
with  it,  despise  it  as  ignorant,  and  groan  over  the  dechne  of 
taste  ;  but  they  are  in  the  wrong.  What  the' public  requires — 
and  will  always  justly  require — is  that  it  sliall  comprehend 
without  effort  what  is  produced  for  it,- — that  is,  that  the  parts  of 
a  building  shall  not  be  isolated  from  the  whole.  It  wishes  to  find 
its  gratification  m  the  whole,  and  has  not  the  leisure  to  find  out 
whether  in  a  work  which  to  its  eyes  and  thoughts  is  confused, 
there  are  some  creditable  parts,  any  more  than  it  will  listen 
patiently  to  five  acts  of  a  drama  which  is  on  the  whole  ill-con- 
ceived and  obscure,  but  in  which  two  or  three  good  scenes  occur. 

Finding  fault  with  the  public  is  an  easy  method  of  criticism  ; 
but  when  a  country  like  France  possesses  Academies  of  Art,  and 
keeps  up  a  school  of  art  at  great  exjiense,  if  that  pubUc.  instead 
of  finding  an  interest  in  the  productions  furnished  by  those 
schools  and  academies,  seeks  satisfaction  for  its  tastes  elsewhere, 
— if  it  attaches  a  continually  increasing  value  to  nicknacks  to 
which  time  has  given  in  its  eyes  a  kind  of  consecx'ation ;  if 
fashion  turns  to  works  of  second-rate  merit,  it  is  because  you— 
academies  and  schools — do  not  fulfil  the  mission  to  which  you 
were  called  ;  in  fact  that  you  yourselves  are  useless.     If  there- 


LECTURE  XVI.  245 

fore  the  State  continues  to  support  you,  it  is  fi-om  motives 
foreign  to  art ;  it  is  in  deference  to  certain  traditions  i-especting 
whose  worth  it  is  mistaken,  or  more  manifestly — much  more 
manifestly,  I  might  say — from  personal  considerations.  We 
must  not  hoodwink  ourselves  in  the  matter  ;  whenever  the  State 
occupies  itself  with  questions  pertaining  to  the  domain  of  intel- 
lect outside  the  political  sphere,  it  regards  persons  alone.  Its 
interest  is  not  to  quarrel  with  certain  corporations  which  might 
give  it  trouble,  but  to  humour  them  so  as  to  make  use  of  them 
in  case  of  need.  As  to  principles  beyond  the  sphere  of  politics 
and  public  morals,  it  has  but  a  trifling  interest  in  them,  or 
rather  it  does  not  at  all  understand  them — it  finds  them  trouble- 
some. The  State  is  consequently  made  a  tool  of  by  the  corporate 
bodies  which  it  j^rofesses  to  protect  and  hold  in  tutelage,  and  on 
that  account  it  should  not  give  them  any  special  countenance 
other  than  that  which  is  due  from  it  to  all  citizens. 


LECTUTvE    XVIL 


DOMESTIC      A  K  C  II  I  T  E  C  T  U  U  E. 


rpUE  disastrous  events  wliicli  have  just  taken  place,  long  fore- 
J_      seen  by  those  who  did  not  allow  themselves  to  be  dazzled 
by  a  prosperity  more  brilliant  than  solid,  must  exert  a  radical 
inlluence  on  our  moral  and  social  existence,  and  our  system  of 
instruction,  if  we  would  not  see  our  unfortunate  country  aban- 
doned to  rapid  decay.     We  cannot  but  be  convinced  now  that 
luxury  does  not  constitute  true  greatness,  and  that  privileges 
accorded   to    an    official  system   of  instruction,    relieved    from 
responsibility,  are  far  from  satisfying  all  the  requirements  of  our 
times,  and  oidy  insure  us,  when  a  crisis  comes,  the  exposure  of 
our  inferiority  before  our  rivals,  by  giving  us  a  confidence  in  our 
resources  Avhich  actual  experiment  fails  to  justify.     How  often 
during  these  unhappy  days,  marked  each  of  them  by  deplorable 
miscalculations,  have  we  not  had  to  witness  the  incompetency  of 
those  privileged  bodies  which,  as  their  partisans  asserted,  were 
to  have  secured  us  in  every  department  a  superiority  over  our 
neighbours.      Government,   war,  arts,  and   sciences,  everything 
in   fact,  was  placed  \inder  the  control   of  irresponsible  bodies 
infatuated  with  confidence  in  their  doctrines  and  regulations — 
rejecting  the  aid  of  private  enterprise,  assuming  itself  capable  of 
sufficiency  for  evei'ything  and  preserving  us  from  all  dangers. 
In  the  face  of  disasters  which  successively  have  overwhelmed  us, 
what  have  our  institutions — the  envy  of  Europe,  as  it  was  as- 
serted— done   for  us  ?     They  have   not    only  left  the  country 
absolutely  destitute,  but  have  obstructed  the  action  of  private 
enterprise ;  in  the  very  presence  of  the  enemy  they  have  still 
found  time  to  bring  personal  squabbles  into  the  foreground  and  to 
defend  privilege  and  routine  inch  by  inch.      Not  having  been 
able  to  prevent  or  even  to  foresee  these  disasters,  but  having 
with  proud  disdain  opposed  all  reform  and  resisted  all  appeals  on 
the  part  of  liberal  minds,  they  have  dragged  down  with  them- 
selves to  ruin  even  those  who  were  combating  their   despotic 
doctrines.     All  they  think  of  is  their  own  safety,  and  we  must 
consider   ourselves    fortunate   if  they  do   not  make  us  solely 


LECTURE  XV 1 1.  247 

responsible   for   the    disasters   of  which    they  are   among   the 
principal  causes. 

Even  now,  when  a  humiliating  peace  has  been  imposed  upon 
us,  and  a  vagabond  horde  has  all  but  destroyed  the  capital  of 
France,  and  has  played  a  drama  before  the  eyes  of  Europe,  in 
which  folly   and    brutishness   have   succeeded    by   violence   in 
producing  a  reign  of  terror,  there  are  still  those  who  venture  to 
thrust  their  foolish  personality  into  the  foreground.      Only  a  few 
months  have  passed  away  smce  the  disastrous  interval  when  our 
country — crushed    beneath    the    heel    of    Germany — and   dis- 
honoiu-ed  by  bands  of  drunkards,  was  at  the  point  of  despera- 
tion, yet  already  the  same  pretensions  are  begmning  to  show 
themselves.     Those   who   had   disappeared   during   the  storm, 
reappear,  like  flies  after  a  summer  shower,  to  trouble  us  with 
their  importunate  assumption  to  govern  the  domain  of  thought, 
wliich,  as   they  affirmed,  they  were  officially  commissioned   to 
protect,  but  which  they  have  exposed  to  the  utmost  peril.     Let 
us  not  deceive  ourselves :  our  country  needs  a  regeneration,  and 
it  is  by  sound  instruction  alone  that  this  can  be  accomplished. 
Crushed  beneath  the  weight  of  our  errors,  our  mdifference  and 
moral  weakness,  overborne  by  an    enemy  whose  power  equals 
his  animosity,  it  is  from  ourselves  alone  that  we  must  look  for 
retahating  power  by  means  of  education,  instruction,  and  labour. 
To  hide  from  the  country  at  such  a  time  the  gravity  of  the  evil 
which   has  long  been  eating  out   its   life,  is  to   determine  to 
perjDetuate  that  evil,— m  fact  it  is  to  fall  into  the  lowest  grade 
among  civilised  people.     We  have  reached  that  period  of  decUne 
which  has  manifested  itself  in  former  civilisations.     If  what  is 
called  the  Latin  race  does    not  make  one  last  effort,  its  fete 
is  sealed.     Let  us  have  the  coiu-age  to  examine  the  wound  in 
clear  daylight,  to  sound  its  depth,  and,  if  necessary,  to  apply 
the  red-hot   iron ;    otherwise    the    mortification   will    advance. 
Incapacity  and  mere    routine   in  the  higher  strata  of  society, 
effeminacy  and  nonchalance  in  the  middle  class,  and  envy  and 
ignorance  at  the  lower  extremity  of  the  scale, — this  is  a  fair  general 
view  of  the  state  of  our  affiiirs.     And  it  is  at  the  lower  extremity 
that    the   regeneration    must   begin  ;    the    general   level   of  a 
nation  is  raised  only  by  the  instruction  and  education  of  the 
lower  strata.     In  rising  they  force  the  rest  to  rise.     To  work 
therefore  !  and  without  delay  !     It   is  for  men  of  energy  and 
intelligence — if  any  such   are   left  among  us — to  abandon  all 
those    prejudices    which    up    to    this    very  moment    may  have 
seemed  to  be  valuable  traditions,  to  leave  sterile  discussions  to 
the  unemployed,  to  regard  serious,  practical,  rational  study  as 
the  true  element  of  all   intellectual  work,  and   to   diffuse   the 
love  of  study  of  this  kind  around  them,  and  no  longer  to  deal 


248  LECrURI'JS  O.V  ARCHITECTURE. 

witli  colleges  or  corporate  bodies,  but  with  capacity — wherever 
it  may  spring  from. 

And  what  can  we  as  architects  do  ?  Are  we  going  to  con- 
tinue our  old  courses  in  the  midst  of  a  ruined  country,  still 
shuddering  at  the  insults  that  have  been  mflicted,  despairing 
and  seeking  some  way  of  safety —  (the  courses,  I  was  going  to 
say,  of  the  past  century, — so  great  seeming  to  be  the  distance 
between  to-day  and  the  opening  months  of  the  year  1870)  ? 
Are  we — regardless  of  what  our  actual  necessities  and  the 
administration  of  the  public  finances  counsel — to  continue  to 
translate  into  stone  the  most  ridiculous  caprices,  to  mock  with 
ill-timed  display  the  mourning  aspect  of  the  country,  and 
Hatter  the  follies  of  that  part  of  the  public  which  sees  in  our 
recent  misfortunes  only  a  temporary  check  on  its  love  for 
appearances,  vain  pomp  and  a  leisurely  and  easy-going  existence  ? 

I  am  aware  that  there  will  be  found  among  us  some  of  those 
who  have  always  taken  refuge  behind  these  three  words  : — I  am 
paid  ! !  {panders  too  are  paid),  and  who  are  always  flatterers  of 
the  most  perverted  intellects,  the  most  foolish  vanities,  and  the 
most  unwarrantable  presumption  ;  and  who,  clever  as  well  as 
compliant,  will  contrive  to  carry  out  the  most  ridiculous 
schemes.  But  I  believe  that  there  will  also  be  architects, — and 
they  alone  are  worthy  of  the  name, — who  will  persistently 
oppose  the  evil  tendencies  of  the  past,  and  respect  the  dignity  of 
their  profession.  The  position  of  an  architect  towards  his  client 
is  not  that  of  a  mere  executor  of  the  ideas,  fancies,  and  whims  of 
the  latter.  He  is  also  an  adviser  ;  and  the  talent  he  possesses 
should  never  be  prostituted  to  the  carrying  out  of  an  idea  that 
is  false,  ridiculous,  or  injurious  to  the  real  intei'ests  of  his  clients. 
This  talent  should  never  condescend  to  satisfy  foolish  condi- 
tions. Talent  is  invested  with  a  certain  dignity ;  and,  as  a 
writer,  if  he  is  an  honourable  man,  will  not  lend  his  pen  to  the 
expression  of  thoughts  whose  tendency  is  unwholesome,  or 
which  seem  to  him  erroneous,  I  do  not  see  how  an  architect 
can,  without  dishonour,  use  the  money  of  his  client  to  the 
detruiient  of  the  interests  confided  to  him,  even  at  the  express 
order  of  the  man  who  pays  him. 

I  hear  it  said  on  all  sides,  since  the  sad  experience  through 
which  we  have  been  passing,  that  every  one  ought  to  endeavour 
to  stimulate  the  intellectual  vigour  of  the  country,  which  has 
long  been  depressed.  But  assuredly  it  is  in  great  measure  to 
the  enfeeblement  of  the  moral  sense, — to  shameful  compliances 
■with  what  conscience  really  disapproves,  that  we  owe  our  mis- 
fortunes. However  subordinate  may  be  the  part  which  the 
Architect  has  to  sustain  in  this  indispensable  reformation,  he 
ought  to  make  a  point  of  sustaining  it  well ;  and  if  all  those 


LECTURE  XVII.  249 

among  us  who  have  preserved  a  love  for  their  country,  who  do 
not  make  the  gain  which  a  commission  offers  them  their  chief 
consideration, — who  I'etain  some  dignity  of  character, — com- 
prehend the  duties  incumbent  on  our  profession,  perhaps  they 
will  lose  some  of  those  capricious  clients,  Ijut  they  will  con- 
solidate the  position  we  ought  to  take,  and  will  avoid  being 
subjected  to  that  contempt  which  sooner  or  later  will  over- 
whelm buffoons  and  parasites. 

There  has  been  a  good  deal  of  building  in  France  both  on  the 
part  of  the  State,  numicipal  bodies  and  private  persons,  during 
the  past  twenty  yeai's.  Do  the  results  answer  exactly  to  our 
social  condition  ?  No  reflecting  person  will  fail  to  answer  in  the 
negative  at  once.  But  if  we  examine  that  social  condition  or 
rather  its  external  appearance  carefully,  we  shall  soon  observe 
that  the  love  of  the  false,  the  vulgar  luxury,  the  shameless  display 
of  vanity,  that  appear  in  our  public  and  private  buildings,  cor- 
respond with  one  of  the  most  strongly  marked  tendencies  of 
recent  times.  Indeed,  a  vigorous  temperament  and  a  singularly 
firm  character  is  required  for  resisting  the  tendency  to  snatch 
at  easy  successes  gained  by  any  means  whatever.  "  Making 
an  appearance  "  has  been  the  order  of  the  day  ;  for  appearance 
has  been  readily  taken  for  reality,  and  the  tailor  has  made  the 
man  more  perhaps  than  at  any  other  time.  The  question  has 
been  who  should  make  the  most  show.  If  some  were  contented 
to  remain  inconspicuous  in  the  midst  of  this  factitious  splendour, 
many  who  understood  the  world  better,  or  who  were  less 
scrupulous,  were  content  with  this  brilliant  surface.  A  down- 
I'aU  more  sudden  than  ever  occurred  in  the  midst  of  a  highly 
polished  society  has  laid  bare  the  vices  of  this  social  condition  ; 
and  Paris  presents  the  singular  spectacle,  unique  in  history,  of 
a  city  partly  laid  in  ruins  in  the  very  midst  of  its  splendour, 
and  exhibiting  among  the  ddbris  new  public  buildings,  mansions 
and  ordinary  houses  (untouched  by  the  barbarians  whose  mission 
it  lias  been  to  recall  us  to  the  reality  of  existence),  but  whose 
raison  d'etre  no  longer  exists. 

HLstory  has  seen  rich  and  prosperous  cities  gradually  foiling 
into  oblivion, — cities  whose  life  seems  to  have  slowly  abandoned 
them  ;  which — Venice  for  example — present  to  the  traveller's 
gaze  their  empty  and  ruined  palaces,  slowly  corroded  by  time, 
without  care  on  the  part  of  man,  distracted  by  thoughts  of 
other  things,  to  suspend  its  action.  Their  present  aspect  is 
melancholy ;  but  these  palaces,  which  now  appear  empty^ 
sepulchres,  were  once  peopled  by  young  and  vigorous  beings  : 
they  recall  a  brilliant  past — a  finnly  estabhshed  splendour  ;  and 
though  in  presence  of  such  desolation  Ave  are  naturally  induced  to 
meditate  on  the  fleetingness  of  human  things,  there  yet  remains 


250  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

in  oiu"  minds  the  certainty  that  all  we  see  has  had  a  rational 
basis  of  existence, — has  really  lived.  We  have  before  us  an  old 
and  dusty  book,  with  many  a  discoloration  from  decay,  but 
which  we  may  still  read  with  j^rofit.  But  our  poor  Paris 
presents  to  the  eyes  of  the  philosopher  a  much  more  depressing 
spectacle.  Amid  its  ruins,  blackened  by  incendiary  fires, 
arise  public  and  j^rivate  edifices  whose  apparent  splendour  seems 
an  anachronism.  We  begin  to  ask  ourselves  for  whom  and 
why  this  luxury  has  been  displayed.  Is  it  for  those  barbarians 
within  the  walls  who  regret  that  they  have  not  been  able  to 
destroy  the  whole  city  ?  Or  is  it  for  an  extinct  race — a 
proscribed  aristocracy  ?  What  can  be  the  meaning  of  this 
splendour,  side  by  side  with  these  ruins  ?  Why  has  it  been 
paraded?  These  mansions  are  empty,  these  pubhc  builduigs 
serve  no  clearly  defined  purpose ;  these  luxurious  houses  shelter 
only  a  few  scattered  tenants  who  seem  ashamed  to  inhabit 
them.  The  magnificent  portals  remain  closed.  Silence  reigns 
in  these  newly  built  mansions,  which  have  no  time-honoiu-ed 
associations,  but  remind  us  of  enchanted  palaces,  silent  and 
deserted,  whose  state  is  kept  up  by  invisible  genii.  It  must 
be  acknowledged  that  this  luxury  is  of  a  debased  character  : 
it  did  not  correspond  with  the  realities  of  our  social  condition, 
it  f  irmed  a  veil  for  the  most  coiTupted  part  of  its  surface. 

This  we  may  regard  as  indisputable,  and  let  it  serve  as  a 
warning  to  us  to  produce  no  more  anachronisms  in  stone. 

If  we  inquire  into  the  history  of  the  past,  we  shall  find  that 
however  debased  any  period  may  have  been,  there  was  not  a 
private  house  that  did  not  answer  to  the  requirements  of  the 
civilisation  under  whose  auspices  it  was  built.  In  the  Ancient 
World,  both  in  Asia  and  m  the  West  during  the  Mediasval 
period,  the  dwellings  were  the  veritable  garb,  so  to  speak;  of 
the  manners,  customs  and  modes  of  Hving  of  those  who  occupied 
them.  It  is  not  till  we  come  down  to  our  own  times,  whose 
aspect  presents  so  much  of  confusion  in  all  departments  of 
culture,  that  we  find  a  schism  often  manifest,  and  always 
inexplicable,  between  the  daily  occupations  and  needs  of  the 
people  and  the  character  of  theu"  habitations.  I  will  not  pursue 
the  question  as  to  the  false  ideas  that  have  conducted  us  to  this 
point ;  it  is  sufiicient  to  prove  the  fact  that  nine  times  in  ten 
the  habitations  erected  among  ourselves  do  not  accord  with  our 
reqinrements,  customs  or  incomes.  This  it  will  be  easy  to 
demonstrate. 

We  must  fii'st  classify  the  dwelhngs  of  tlie  period  according 
to  the  various  kinds. 

In  the  cities  we  have,^';".s^  mansions,  i.e.  houses  occupied  by 
a  smgle  family,  belonging  to  the  wealthy ;  secondly,  houses  of  less 


LECTURE  XVII.  251 

pretension,  but  which  are  also  intended  for  single  families  of 
moderate  income ;  thirdly,  houses  occupied  by  more  than  one 
tenant,  which  form  the  majority  of  private  dwellings  in  Paris. 
Suburban  habitations  comprise,  first,  villas,  secondly,  country 
houses.  Chateaux  we  need  not  remark  upon,  as  they  have  been 
already  considered  in  this  work. 

It  need  not  be  observed  that  the  arrangements  of  these  various 
kinds  of  dwellings  differ  essentially  from  each  other,  and  that 
consequently  their  appearance  ought  to  present  various  aspects. 

But  let  us  consider  domestic  architecture  at  an  earUer  epoch, 
without  absolutely  going  back  to  antiquity,  to  which  we  have 
paid  sufficient  attention  in  the  course  of  these  Lectures,  and 
whose  features  less  concern  us,  masmuch  as — though  we  have 
positive  data  respecting  the  houses  in  a  provmcial  town  such  as 
Pompeii,  and  though  we  know  that  there  were  at  Rome  houses 
several  stories  high,  whose  suites  of  rooms  were  let  to  several 
tenants — we  have  only  very  vague  information  respecting  the 
latter. 

Large  houses  with  se\"eral  flats  do  not  date  from  a  high 
antiquity ;  until  the  sixteenth  century,  each  house  in  France 
was  occupied  by  a  single  family.  Those  who  had  no  house  of 
their  ovra  used  to  lodge  in  hostelries  or  groups  of  houses 
belongmg  to  feudal  lords,  chaptere,  or  convents  which  let  such 
premises,  often  furnished.  In  fact  there  were  no  special  arrange- 
ments for  proA^iduig  hired  dwellings.  The  custom  of  building  pre- 
mises for  such  a  purpose  does  not  date  further  back  than  the  seven- 
teenth century.  Have  the  requirements  of  such  buildings  ever 
been  satisfactorily  met  ?  Certainly  not  ;  though  in  this  respect 
our  modern  houses  are  better  arranged,  as  fai*  as  such  requhe- 
ments  are  concerned,  than  were  those  of  the  time  of  Louis  xiii. 
Can  it  be  said  that  they  fully  supply  the  desideratum  ?  Not 
yet.  Can  the  problem  be  solved  \  Assuredly :  but  we  must 
abandon  routine  and  testhetic  traditions,  which  have  no  place 
here,  if  we  would  solve  it.  But  let  us  pursue  the  order  just 
indicated,  and  begin  with  what  we  designate  mansions. 

Mansions  are  generally  isolated,  that  is  to  say,  are  not  con- 
nected as  buildings  with  a  neighbouring  edifice  ;  or  at  least  the 
points  of  connection  are  of  trifling  importance.  They  have  their 
roadways,  and  often  their  gardens.  The  sixteenth,  seventeenth, 
and  eighteenth  centuries  erected  mansions  in  great  numbers, 
which  completely  satisfied  the  requirements  of  their  inhabitants  ; 
we  have  some  still,  but  we  may  assert  that  the  most  ancient  are 
the  best  arranged — those  built  at  a  time  when  the  mania  for 
symmetry  had  not  yet  seized  the  court  and  the  city. 

The  mansion  was  erected  between  the  coin-tyard  and  the 
garden,  had  all  its  openuigs  for  light  on  the  inner  side,  and  had 


252  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

only  its  entrance  gate  and  some  outbuildings  on  the  public  way, 
which  at  that  time  was  often  narrow.  It  was  a  rare  thing  for 
its  buildings  to  be  more  than  one  room  deep,  so  that  the  chief 
apartments  opened  on  the  court  and  the  garden.  Private  life 
was  less  retired  than  it  is  now  among  persons  of  high  rank,  and 
it  was  not  necessaiy  to  pi'ovide  those  complicated  arrangements 
for  privacy,  which,  entering  as  they  now  do  into  our  requirements, 
are  out  of  harmony  with  the  monumental  grandeur  which  is  some- 
times affected.  The  arrangements  in  those  mansions  were  very 
simple  :  a  vestibule,  from  which  rose  the  principal  flight  of  stairs, 
the  hall  in  which  the  friends  of  the  house  assembled,  and  the  ante- 
chamber which  then  actually  led  to  the  bed-chambers,  with  their 
dressing-rooms  and  wardrobes.  The  ancient  arrangement  of 
seigneurial  habitations,  which  were  always  divided  into  two 
distinct  parts,  was  still  kept  up  :  there  was  a  part  more  open  to 
the  public,  and  a  part  reserved  for  family  habitation.  This 
custom  might  even  be  traced  to  classical  anticjuity.  In  the 
wing  were  the  pantries,  kitchens,  servants'  hall,  butler's  room, 
etc.  The  kitchens  were  as  far  as  possible  from  the  rooms  for 
the  family,  and  were  well  ventilated.  The  servants'  staircases 
were  numerous,  and  always  placed  so  as  to  allow  atte)idants  to 
reach  rooms  in  the  upper  stories  easily.  The  Hdtcl  dc  Lionnr, 
built  by  Le  Vaux,  in  the  Rue  des  Petits  Chamios,  presents  a 
typical  habitation  of  this  order  in  the  seventeenth  century.  The 
plan  of  this  mansion  is  given  in  the  grand  Marot} 

"We  gain  a  living  glimpse  as  it  were  of  the  manners  and 
customs  of  the  persons  who  inhabited  such  dwellings,  on  seeing 
this  plan.  We  observe  that  a  great  numbei'  of  domestics  w^ere 
needed,  for  the  ground  is  very  extensive.  We  see  great  care 
shown  to  isolate  the  private  apartments  fi'om  the  noise  of  the 
streets  without,  and  that  caused  by  the  servants  within,  and 
there  are  easy  communications  from  these  apartments  by  private 
staircases.  The  stable  and  coach-house  yard  is  entirely 
separated,  with  issues  conducting  to  the  street,  and  a  roadway 
to  the  grand  court. 

The  front  is  well  arranged,  so  as  to  command  the  garden, 
>vith  flankings  which  give  various  views,  and  make  the  most  of 
the  sunlight.  Square  retiirns,  well  managed,  so  as  to  furnish  the 
lights  required  for  each  department,  and  an  ingenious  arrange- 
ment of  the  partition  walls  so  as  to  avoid  too  great  bearings. 
As  regards  the  facades,  their  ornamentation  is  sober  and  the 
lines  pleasing  to  the  eye. 

At  the  present  day  we  are  building  mansions  whose  extent 
and  importance  are  equal  to  those  of  the  hotel  we  have 
selected  from  amongst  a  hundred  similar  ones.     Now,  will  these 

'  Archilcclure  francaisc.     Paris,  1727. 


LECTURE  XV 11.  233 

new  constructions  give  future  genei'ations  a  perfectly  exact 
notion  of  the  habits  of  our  higher  classes  ?  I  fear  not.  In  them 
we  observe  many  reminiscences  of  the  past :  a  remarkable 
aliectation  of  sumptuousness,  often  accompanied  by  mediocre 
execution  ;  an  outside  of  monumental  appearance  concealing 
hoargeois  habits,  which  are  far  from  censurable,  but  which 
should,  for  that  very  reason,  not  be  disguised  ;  comfort,  of 
no  very  dignified  type,  ensconcing  itself  as  it  may  beneath 
exteriors  of  simple  grandeui"  having  no  correspondence  with  that 
luxuriously  snug  privacy  which  society  in  our  days  most  covets. 
We  obsei've  no  form  presenting  the  true  expression  of  our 
actual  manners  and  customs,  and  but  little  of  invention.  A 
single  example  wiU  show  the  truth  of  this  criticism. 

Until  nearly  the  middle  of  the  last  century,  the  higher 
classes  rarely  paid  visits  except  in  sedan-chairs.  Coaches  were 
employed  only  for  journeys  mto  the  country,  or  for  traversing 
the  city.  If  visits  of  comphment  were  to  be  paid  or  invitations 
had  been  accepted,  the  sedan-chair  was  the  usual  vehicle  for 
lioth  sexes.  These  chahs  were  brought  into  the  vestibules, 
where  the  visitors  or  guests  were  set  down  without  having  to 
fear  the  crumpling  of  their  toilets  or  mconvenience  from  rain  ; 
at  that  time  there  was  no  need  of  awnings  to  preserve  visitors 
or  guests  from  the  mclemency  of  the  weather,  and  the  facades 
displayed  their  majestic  proportions  to  the  courts. 

When  sedan-chairs  were  abandoned  in  favour  of  coaches,  as 
the  latter  were  not  able  to  enter  the  vestibules,  the  arrange- 
ments of  the  grand  entrances  had  to  be  changed  ;  awnings  pro- 
jecting from  these  vestibules  had  to  be  put  up  to  preserve 
visitors  from  ram  and  wind  ;  and  this  was  done.  These  awn- 
ings were  called  marquises.  The  grand  fronts  were  somewhat 
the  worse  for  the  change,  but  the  mterests  of  wigs  and  costly 
toilets  had  to  be  consulted,  and  architectural  requirements 
must  yield  to  necessity.  The  Revolution  of  1792  followed,  and 
then  more  mansions  were  demolished  and  jnllaged  than  were 
constructed.  But  when  the  regular  course  of  things  was 
resumed — i.e.  when  for  equality  in  misery  inequality  in  wealth 
was  substituted  by  the  nature  of  things — when  some  were  a 
little  less  miserably  poor,  and  others  had  become  very  rich, 
mansions  began  to  be  built  again  for  the  latter.  This  was 
towards  the  close  of  the  Directory.  There  was  then  an  impulse 
given  to  art,  which  though  not  a  very  powerful  one,  at  least 
bore  in  the  du-ection  of  attempting  something  new,  and  particu- 
larly uisisted  on  not  imitating  the  style  uumediately  preceding 
the  Revolution.  But  architects  were  for  introducing  too  many  of 
the  columnar  orders  of  Passtum,  and  convenience  suffered  from 
it.    With  the  help  of  a.  heai-ty  good-wUl,  however,  some  tolerably 


254  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

successful  attempts  were  made.  And,  as  a  substitute  for  timr- 
quises, — to  obviate  the  necessity  of  putting  tliem  up,  and  thus 
spoiling  the  rows  of  columns, — they  opened  entrances  to  the 
vestibuies  under  the  passages  of  the  court  gates,  which  insured 
sufHcient  protection  against  the  rain,  but  not  against  tlie' 
currents  of  air.  Inflammation  of  the  luns^s  was  therefore  much 
in  vogue.  Gradually,  at  the  E,estoration,  but  more  especi^illy 
immediately  afterwards,  the  opinion  prevailed  that  every  build- 
ing which  did  not  resemble  the  ancient  hotels  of  the  Faubourg 
St.  Germain  was  unworthy  of  the  name.  Architects  again  set 
themselves  to  copy  those  ancient  dwellings.  But  what  of  the 
marquises  f  .  .  .  They  continued,  and  they  continue  still  to  ])ut 
them  up  in  a  way  suggesting  that,  in  building  the  mansions, 
they  had  not  been  contemplated.  They  were  tacked  on,  just 
as  the  case  allowed,  to  the  architecture.  Very  few  architects 
endeavoui'ed  to  introduce  these  accessories  into  their  original 
designs  as  an  absolute  desideratum  dictated  by  a  constant 
and  imperious  necessity. 

I  fancy  if  the  great  architects  of  the  age  of  Louis  Quatorze, 
who  built  such  handsome  mansions,  had  been  required  to 
consider  the  marquise  in  their  plans  they  would  have  in- 
vented something  better  than  those  glass  and  iron  cages  which 
combine  so  awkwardly  with  architecture  in  stone.  This  is  a 
mere  detail,  I  freely  admit ;  but  this  detail  itself  indicates  how 
little  inventive  faculty  we  possess,  and  how  easy  it  is  to  acquire 
the  name  of  architect ;  since,  to  gain  the  title,  it  is  considered 
sufficient  to  imitate  forms  belonging  to  a  period  whose  habits 
differ  from  our  own,  and  to  seek  for  arrangements  and  distri- 
butions behind  these  forms  which  any  one  might  draw  with 
a  stick  on  the  ground,  simply  following  his  own  particular  ideas 
of  things. 

What  architect  is  there  who  has  not  had  a  visit  from  a  client 
exhibiting  a  plan,  and  addressing  him  in  some  such  words  as 
the   following : — "  Here,  sir,  is  the  plan  of  a  mansion  which 

Madame  and  myself  have  thought  out :    it  corresponds 

exactly  with  our  wishes.  Each  part  of  the  building  occupies 
the  place  which  our  habits  of  life  require  ;  be  so  kind  therefore 
as  to  build  ns  this  :  we  wish  moreover  that  the  parts  should  be 
built  in  the  style  of  Louis  xvi.  and  the  interiors  to  be  Renais- 
sance." Take  care  not  to  tell  such  a  client  that  his  ar)-ange- 
ments  ai-e  utterly  absurd,  that  the  fireplaces  cannot  find  flues 
and  the  staircases  are  impassable,  and  that  the  Renaissance  and 
Louis  XVI.  have  nothing  to  do  with  each  other.  Or  if  you  do 
thus  expostulate,  you  may  be  sure  your  client  will  find  another 
architect  more  complaisant  and  more  sparing  of  his  criticisms. 
All  clients  indeed  are  not  of  tliis  stamp,  and  many  (having 


LECTURE  XVII.  255 

furnished  a  programme  of  their  requirements)  leave  the  architect 
to  do  the  best  he  can  with  it.  In  such  a  case  it  is  his  duty  to 
endeavour  to  make  architecture  comply  with  the  programme 
and  not  to  insist  on  emulating  mansions  built  in  the  time  of 
'  Louis  xrv.,  Louis  xv.,  or  even  Louis  xvi. 

We  might  compile  a  long  catalogue  of  the  blunders  caused 
by  this  mania  for  imitation, — this  obUgation  to  subject  arrange- 
ments, absolutely  new  in  character,  to  external  appearances  wliich 
have  no  longer  a  sufficient  reason  for  their  reproduction.  The 
English,  who  are  a  little  less  vain  than  oui'selves,  and  more 
practical,  although  possessing  only  a  mediocre  natural  taste, 
understand  better  than  we  do  how  to  make  the  best  of  con- 
ditions suggested  by  then-  daily  habits.  At  least  they  rarely 
affect  in  their  exteriors  that  monumental  grandeur  which  is  so 
out  of  keeping  with  the  domestic  habits  of  our  times. 

One  may  pass  ten  times  in  front  of  mansions  in  London  which 
are  sumptuously  furnished  and  wondei-fiilly  well  arranged  to  suit 
the  requirements  of  then-  occupants,  without  suspectmg  that 
their  so  simple  fronts,  of  no  architectural  pretension,  belong 
to  premises  which  are  admirably  distributed  and  ornamented, 
and  in  which  life  can  be  very  conveniently  passed. 

Each  nation  has  its  particular  tastes,  and  we  do  not  assert 
that  it  is  binding  on  us  to  affect  in  the  exteriors  of  our  mansions  a 
puritanical  simplicity  which  contravenes  our  natural  dispositions  ; 
but  let  us  at  least  avoid  absolutely  excluding  common  sense 
(which  is  never  detrimental)  from  our  dwellings,  even  though 
they  be  of  princely  splendour,  and  let  us  tiy  to  make  their 
external  appearance — since  we  make  a  pomt  of  external  appear- 
ance,— coiTespond  with  the  arrangements  within.  Nations  quite 
as  much  inclined  as  ourselves  to  love  external  splendour  and  to 
show  their  taste,  perhaps  also  theu-  vanity,  have  succeeded  in 
producing  that  agi-eement.  We  ourselves  have  not  always  thus 
repudiated  reason  and  common  sense ;  we  have  been  able  to  dis- 
play invention  and  a  judicious  application  of  architectural  art  to 
oiir  needs  and  habits.  If  we  go  to  the  Grand  Canal  in  Venice, 
we  shall  observe  that  the  palaces  built  at  the  same  epoch  present 
a  striking  analogy. 

There  is  no  need  to  enter  these  dwellings  to  divine  at  once 
the  internal  arrangements  or  to  know  how  the  inhabitants  lived  in 
them,  or  what  were  their  daily  customs.  Never  were  the  require- 
ments of  the  case  more  faithfully  complied  with.  It  is  well  known 
that  the  mansions  or  palaces  of  Venice  genei-ally  overlook  on  one 
side  a  canal  and  on  the  other  a  calle  or  road  for  foot-passeno-ers. 
A  long  vestibule  traverses  the  building  from  one  side  to  the 
other,  with  one  or  two  water- entrances  and  one  on  the  land 
side.     On  the  right  and  left  are  the  dependencies  :  the  porter's 


256 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


ft/f.^^^^wr  .tAt'o 


Fio.  1. — Ground  and  First-Iloor  plaus  of  a  VeuL-tiau  Pahicu. 


r!.  ,  XXXi: 


c•()l.'li^ 


(S    D'ARCHITECTUF^K 


/■    V«>&/    U  //... 


COUPE  I'EP\SPF.CT1VE  DUN  PALAIS  DE  VENIS 


LECTURE  XVII.  257 

lodge,  the  servants'  apartments,  kitchen,  pantry,  storerooms,  etc. 
On  one  side,  or  sometimes  even  at  the  further  end  of  the  vesti- 
bule, is  the  grand  staircase,  which  terminates  on  the  first  story 
in  a  large  hall  corresponding  with  the  vestibule.  At  the  right 
and  left  of  the  hall  open  the  private  suites  of  apartments.  This 
arrangement  is  reproduced  in  the  other  stories. 

The  plans,  figure  1,  show"  concisely  with  what  frank  simplicity 
the  conditions  are  fulfilled.^  The  main  front  of  this  jialace  com- 
mands a  wide  canal,  its  posterior  facade  overlooks  a  calle,  and  one 
of  its  sides  a  narrower  canal.  This  is  an  arrangement  frequently 
adopted.  At  A  is  a  portico  serving  as  a  place  of  embarkation. 
The  great  vestibule  b  is  immediately  behind  it,  giving  access 
directly  to  the  grand  staircase.  At  c  the  back  entrance  opens  on 
the  calle ;  at  P,  a  postern  on  the  narrower  canal  for  bringing  in 
pro-visions  by  boat.  At  F  is  a  httle  court  with  a  cistern  recei%Txig 
the  rain-water  from  the  roofs.  At  E  the  pantiy,  and  at  D  the 
kitchen.  The  porter's  lodge  is  at  i.  At  h  are  the  offices, 
provision  stores,  cellars,  etc.     A  back  stair  is  placed  at  G. 

The  first-floor  plan  shows  at  K  the  great  hall,  at  M  a  study  or 
small  receiving  room,  and  at  L  bed-chambers  with  wardrobes. 

This  plan,  which  is  so  simple — so  readily  understood — was 
perfectly  accommodated  to  the  requirements  of  a  noble  family 
in  Venice  ;  and  the  domestic  habits  of  the  higher  classes  of  that 
beautiful  city  have  certainly  changed  but  little  since  the  period 
in  question.  We  observe  the  hall, — the  place  of  meeting  for 
the  family  where  strangers  are  admitted ;  and  next  the  apart- 
ments destined  for  greater  privacy,  completely  distinct  from  that 
principal  hall.  It  is  in  this  latter  that  meals  are  taken,  in 
accordance  with  an  ancient  mediaeval  custom.  Quickly  cleared 
after  the  repast,  the  same  table  once  more  assembled  the  family 
around  it  during  the  winter  evenings.  In  the  svmimer  the 
family  enjoy  the  coolness  of  the  night  in  their  gondolas.  Ai'ound 
the  great  hall  are  ranged  the  bufl'ets  contauiing  the  plate  ;  and 
on  its  walls  are  hung  the  family  portraits  and  memorials  of 
honour  and  distinctions  connected  with  the  house.  The  eleva- 
tions express  these  internal  arrangements  with  singular  clear- 
ness ;  a  wide  arcaded  opening  for  light  crosses  at  the  end  of  the 
great  haU.  As  regards  the  secondary  apartments,  they  are 
lighted  by  windows  proportioned  to  theii-  dimensions. 

To  exhibit  more  clearly  the  general  aspect  of  the  archi- 
tectural method  adopted,  we  give  a  perspective  section  through 
the  broken  line  a  h,  Plate  XXXII. ,  showing  how  frankly  the 
exterior  corresponds  with  the  internal  arrangements. 

1  '  This  plan  gives  a  resume,  if  one  may  so  term  it,  of  a  certain  number  of  those  dwellings 
Belonging  to  the  commencement  of  the  fifteenth  century,  which  are  designed  on  the  same 
type  though  of  various  dimensions. 

VOL.  n.  R 


258  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

At  Venice  it  was  a  matter  of  importance  to  economise 
every  inch  of  soil.  Courts  or  gai'dens  could  scarcely  be  thovight 
of  in  a  city  where  every  site  had  to  be  conquered  from  the 
lagune. 

The  edifice  must  always  show  in  plan  an  agglomerated  mass 
of  constructions — what  Ave  call  a  ^Jctt'i/fcH.  This  spacious  reser- 
voir of  air  in  the  interior,  with  a  wide  opening  for  light  at  one 
of  its  extremities,  being  cool  in  summer  when  the  heat  is  over- 
whelming, and  warm  in  winter  when  the  cold  is  pretty  severe, 
presented  advantages  which  a  court  could  not  have  offered  ;  and 
it  was  really  utilised,  a  point  of  supreme  importance  where 
ground  was  so  difficult  to  obtain.  Towards  the  close  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  the  Venetians,  without  deviating  from  the 
arrangements  of  this  plan  in  the  main,  determined,  according  to 
the  prevailing  fiishion,  to  erect  symmetrical  facades  presenting 
ranges  of  columns  with  no  break  from  one  extremity  to  the 
other. 

Thus  from  this  penchant  for  the  "  orders  "  they  perverted  the 
plan.  Windows  of  equal  dimensions  and  similar  form  hghted 
the  central  hall  and  the  lateral  apartments,  which  was  absixrd  ; 
but  it  is  not  for  us  to  find  fault  with  this  inconsistency,  since 
we  are  constantly  doing  the  same  thing. 

In  Italy  the  family  bond  was  formerly  and  is  still  very 
powerful.  The  impress  of  this  characteristic  feature  is  strongly 
marked  in  the  programme  so  skilfully  carried  out.  We  observe 
one  locality  for  all  to  assemble  in,  as  in  our  own  mediaeval 
chateaux,  and  still  more  remotely  m  the  Roman  houses  ;  though 
with  this  difference — that  among  the  wealthy  Romans  the  wife 
and  young  children  occupied  a  separate  part  of  the  dwelling, 
whereas  here  all  the  members  of  the  family  are  grouped 
around  the  common  hearth.  We  observe,  however,  in  these 
Venetian  palaces  entire  liberty  left  to  each.  The  means  of 
retu-ement  are  numerous  and  convenient,  and  the  ways  of 
issue  by  land  and  by  water  allowed  the  inhabitants  to  go  out 
and  retm-n  without  attracting  attention. 

The  Roman  palace  of  the  fifteenth  century  is  on  an  entirely 
different  \)\sa\.  In  Rome  there  was  no  lack  of  space,  and  the 
ancient  tradition  was  in  greater  vigour.  The  Roman  palace 
usually  consists  of  an  interior  court,  surrounded  by  porticos  with 
apartments  one  room  in  depth  all  round,  whose  doors  open  on 
these  porticos,  which  are  foimd  at  eveiy  story.  We  have,  in  fact, 
an  arrangement  in  accordance  with  the  impluvium  of  the  houses 
of  classical  antiquity.  Here,  too,  we  find  a  great  hall,  but  under 
the  form  of  the  gallery,  whose  function  is  not  that  of  the 
Venetian  great  hall.  The  gallery  is  an  affair  of  ostentation. 
Ceremonial  receptions  and  fetes  take  place  there.     It  is  not  a 


LECTURE  XV ir.  269 

place  of  assembling  for  the  familj  ;  the  gallery  is  not  m  a  central 
position,  but,  on  the  contrary,  is  connected  as  httle  as  possible 
with  the  private  apartments.  We  observe  magnificent  flights 
of  stairs,  occupying  a  space  which  is  considerable  in  proportion 
to  the  whole  building,  and  symmetrical  fagades  without  pro- 
jections, and  which  oftend  by  their  ch'eary  monotony. 

We  find  the  same  arrangement  at  Florence,  and  in  most  of 
the  cities  of  Southern  Italy.  There  is  no  appearance  of  comfort, 
but  an  evident  intention  to  appear  magnificent ;  in  fact,  all 
the  dweUmgs  in  question  ape  grandeur.  Wliat  is  censurable 
in  them  is,  that  they  do  not  show  the  imprint  of  the  habits  of 
those  who  occupied  them.  Whereas  one  seems  actually  to  Uve 
with  the  citizens  of  Pompeii,  and  would  in  a  few  hom's  be  quite 
familiar  with  then-  daily  habits  and  customs,  these  palaces  of 
modern  Rome  appeal"  not  to  have  been  built  with  a  view  to 
being  hved  in.  They  are  vast  and  sometimes  magnificent 
edifices  ;  but  they  seem  to  be  waitmg  for  a  generation  of  hiunan 
beings  that  will  never  present  themselves,  to  give  their  walls 
that  stamp  of  living  humanity  without  which  every  building 
leaves  the  spectator  cold  and  indifferent.  It  is  this  stamp  that 
gives  our  ancient  French  houses  so  real  a  charm.  Here  in  the 
old  manors  of  the  Marais,  we  find  ourselves  transported  back  to 
the  midst  of  a  society  that  has  really  lived,  and  has  left  in  every 
corner  the  trace  of  its  habits,  passions  and  endeavours. 

It  caimot  be  denied  that  one  of  the  most  powerful  of  the 
attractions  possessed  by  the  Arts  of  olden  tunes  is  that  they 
enable  the  spectator  to  hve  amid  the  civilisation  that  has 
produced  them.  A  great  many  works  of  art  attract  and  touch 
us  profoundly,  simply  because  they  recall  the  circumstances  that 
gave  them  birth,  and  because,  in  examining  them,  we  see  pass 
before  us,  as  it  were,  those  generations  which  have  examined 
them  with  curious  eyes,  in  times  long  past.  Suppose  this  charm 
obhterated — were  this  possible — and  the  work,  however  beautiful, 
will  lose  much  of  its  attraction.  On  this  account  mere  iuiitatious, 
marvellous  though  they  may  seem,  never  produce  much 
impression  on  the  mind,  and  can  no  more  deeply  affect  it 
than  apocryphal  memoirs.  On  this  account,  also,  no  epoch  that 
has  not  the  determination  and  energy  to  model  its  architecture 
according  to  its  habits  will  leave  more  than  a  fugitive  trace 
in  the  history  of  the  arts.  Even  should  it  rack  its  intellect  to 
reproduce  a  collection  of  the  finest  of  anterior  creations,  its 
architectm-e  will  count  for  less  in  the  judgment  of  the  future, 
than  an  mipretentious  house  of  wood  belongmg  to  our  old  cities  ; 
and  the  verdict  would  be  just.  We  tender  no  thanks  to  an 
author  who  wants  imagination,  though  he  may  borrow  splendid 
passages  from  a  brother  author  to  adorn  his  pages  :  but  we  shall 


260  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

tliank  him  if  he  is  true,  and  relates  simply  what  he  has  seen  and 
known. 

The  principal  charm,  to  my  thinking,  in  the  domestic  buildings 
of  our  French  architects  down  to  the  seventeenth  century  is  due 
to  the  fact  that  they  never  went  out  of  their  way.  They  frankly 
satisfied  the  requirements  of  their  times,  and  by  the  simplest 
means.  But  to  be  ingenuous  and  simple  in  the  arts  it  is 
necessary  to  be  strong ;  and  in  fact  all  the  borrowed  splendours 
with  which  our  own  atje  jjlorifies  itself — its  eclectic  refinements 
— conceal  an  incurable  feebleness,  to  say  the  least,  and  often  a 
profound  ignorance. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  works  on  the  subject  that  can  be 
studied  is  Pierre  le  Muet's  book.^  This  architect  begins  by  exliibit- 
ing  the  house  of  the  poorer  citizens  with  a  single  window  in 
front ;  and  advancing  to  houses  of  more  and  more  pretension 
he  comes  to  notice  the  smaller  mansions,  then  the  larger  ones, 
such  as  the  Hotel  Davaux,  built  by  him  in  the  Rue  Sainte- 
Avoye.  In  these  habitations,  whether  accommodated  to  the 
most  restricted  or  to  princely  incomes,  we  find  the  faithful 
imprint  of  the  manners  of  the  times.  The  whole  of  society  from 
the  lowest  to  the  highest  grades  is  depicted  in  this  ingenious 
collection  of  buildings.  There  is  a  connection  between  all  of 
them  ;  each  holds  the  place  it  ought  really  to  occupy,  and  assumes 
the  importance  suitable  to  it.  The  buildings  are  generally  only 
one  room  deep  ;  their  simple  stately  arrangements  would  not  suit 
our  habits,  but  were  quite  suited  to  the  requirements  of  the 
period. 

Every  one  knows  that  at  that  time  the  widest  streets  in 
Paris  were  only  thirty  feet  wide.  It  is  thence  inferred  that  the 
houses  wei'e  narrow,  wanted  ventilation,  and  were  consequently 
unhealthy.  In  this  as  in  many  other  things  our  jiidgment  is 
rather  hasty. 

The  space  that  was  wanting  in  the  thoroughfare  was  made 
use  of  to  the  advantage  of  the  houses  themselves.  Many  of  these 
mansions,  and  even  of  the  smaller  dwellings  which  lined  streets 
scarcely  wide  enough  for  two  carriages  abreast,  possessed  courts 
and  gardens. 

When  our  modern  municipal  authorities  cut  those  great 
arteries  (whose  utility  and  desirableness  we  are  far  from  contest- 
ing) through  quarters  of  the  city  which  appeared  to  consist  of 
squaUd  abodes,  whose  only  hght  seemed  derived  from  narrow 
streets,  people  were  much  surprised  to  see  behind  these  blocks 
of  building,  consigned  to  destruction,  gardens  or  ample  spaces 

'  Manii-re  de  batir  pour  toutes  sorter  de  personnes  ;  par  Pierre  le  Muet,  architecte-ordiuaire 
du  roi,  et  conducteur  des  dessins  dea  fortifications  de  Sa  Majesty  ;  Paris,  1681.  In-folio  en 
deux  parties. 


LECTURE  XVII.  261 

known  only  to  the  inhabitants  of  those  dwellings.  In  the  most 
crowded  quarters  even,  the  top  of  a  neighbouring  building — the 
Tower  of  St.  Jacques,  for  instance — would  enable  one  to  .see  trees 
whose  existence  was  quite  unknown  to  those  who  passed  through 
the  fetid  and  narrow  streets.  Old  Paris,  seen  from  a  balloon, 
would  have  presented  innumerable  spots  of  verdure  in  every 
direction, — vestiges  of  the  ancient  arrangement  of  the  houses 
of  the  city. 

Paris  must  certainly  have  been  rendered  more  healthy  by 
the  broad  currents  of  air  which  now  circulate  through  its  most 
populous  quarters,  and  especially  by  the  improved  arrangements 
for  house  and  street  drainage ;  but  can  we  suppose  that  our 
massive  and  lofty  constructions,  which  often  have  no  courts,  or 
which  have  only  wells  of  air  between  their  party  walls, 
wUl  continue  to  be  wholesomely  conditioned  when  time  shall 
have  produced  its  disintegrating  effect  on  the  materials  of  which 
they  are  built  ?  I  have  heard  doubts  on  this  head — and  which 
I  myself  share — expressed  by  men  who  have  made  sanitaiy 
matters  their  special  study.  All  cu'cumstances  considered,  the 
blocks  of  houses  in  our  great  modern  cities,  particularly  in  Paris, 
present  agglomerations  much  too  compact  and  uniformly  buUt 
to  allow  of  such  masses  of  buildings  having  a  sufficient,  free 
circulation  of  air.  Miasmata  fatal  to  the  health  of  the  inhabit- 
ants must  be  developed  amid  these  masses  in  consequence 
of  the  fermentation  produced  by  time  in  masses  of  material  of 
various  kinds. 

Similar  considerations  show  us  that  buildings  one  room  in 
depth,  of  which  our  mansions  consisted  down  to  the  end  of  the 
seventeenth  centuiy,  had  the  advantage  of  being  easily  aerated. 
The  plan  adopted  presented  difficulties  in  regard  to  internal 
arrangements ;  but  it  cannot  be  denied  that  our  ancient  arcliitects 
showed  skill  in  overcoming  them,  and  did  not  lose  the  space  we 
are  now  obliged  to  sacrifice  to  sombre  passages  and  communica- 
tions which  camiot  be  well  ventUated  and  are  in  every  respect 
objectionable. 

In  studying  those  ancient  plans  we  observe  how  exactly  they 
rendered  the  programmes  dictated  by  the  habits  of  the  higher 
class.  When  the  desire  for  symmetrical  openings  and  axial 
arrangements  took  possession  of  our  architects,  towards  the 
beginning  of  the  seventeenth  century,  they  could  comply  with 
the  new  requirements,  thanks  to  the  simplicity  of  their  plans. 
Buildings  one  room  deep  could  of  course  be  accommodated  to 
those  symmetrical  arrangements  ;  and  although  architects  often 
employed  artifices  to  humour  the  exigencies  of  art,  they  did 
not  go  to  the  extent  of  perverting  the  plans  and  deranging  the 
internal  arrangements. 


202 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


These  arrangements  were  but  little  modified  during  the 
sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries ;  we  observe  them  in  the 
Hotel  de  Cluny  and  the  Hotel  de  la  Tremouille  which  date  from 
the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century,  and  in  the  mansions  erected 
during  the  reign  of  Louis  xv. 


Fio.  2. — Ground-i'lan  of  French  Town  Mansion  of  the  Sixteenth  and  Seventeenth  Centuries. 

The  plan,  figure  2,  gives  the  type  of  the  arrangements 
observed  in  mansions  of  the  north  of  France.  The  principal 
building  stands,  where  possible,  between  the  court  and  the 
garden.  The  inferior  courts  are  placed  laterally  in  direct 
communication  with  the  great  court  (cowr  d'honncur).     A  wide 


LECTURE  A'VII.  263 

vestibule,  A,  opens  in  front  of  the  axis  of  the  court.  The  sedan- 
chairs  were  carried  as  far  as  the  interior  of  this  vestibule.  On 
one  side  is  placed  the  principal  staircase  and  the  room  a,  in  which 
persons  who  came  on  business  were  received.  On  the  other  side, 
at  B  is  what  was  called  the  antechamber,  i.e.  the  waiting-room 
preceding  the  apartments.  Next  to  this  at  c  is  the  chamber 
which  served  as  a  private  drawmg-room.  At  d  the  dining-room 
with  the  buttery  at  E.  The  kitchens  are  placed  at  F,  and  at  G 
the  salle  de  commiin,  which  corresponds  with  the  modern  ser- 
vants' hall.  At  II  is  a  bedroom  with  its  great  alcove,  dressing- 
room  and  wardrobes. 

The  coach-liouse  R,  and  stables  i,  fronted  the  back  court. 
Near  the  kitchens,  at  K,  is  the  store-room  for  provisions,  at  L 
a  coach-house  for  carriages  or  chairs  awaiting  the  departure  of 
guests  :  at  m  the  porter's  apartments. 

The  ground-floor  was  therefore  occupied  by  the  rooms  for 
the  household.  There  was  no  grand  reception  hall ;  the  dining- 
room  was  small,  for  during  that  period — except  on  certain  very 
special  occasions — only  intimate  friends  were  invited  to  repasts. 

The  reception-rooms  are  arranged  on  the  first  story.  They 
consist,  fig.  3,  of  what  w^as  called  the  hall  a,  an  antechamber  b, 
which  in  fact,  serving  the  purpose  of  an  ordinary  drawing-room, 
usually,  was  arranged  for  grand  receptions  on  gala  days ;  the 
gallery  G,  and  the  chapel  o.  Two  apartments,  D,  for  the  use 
of  the  family,  were  connected  with  these  reception-rooms,  and 
had  their  separate  services.  Other  suites  of  apartments  were 
placed  at  e  over  the  entrance  buildings,  and  were  for  the  use  of 
friends.  The  domestics  were  lodged  in  the  attics,  and  the 
grooms  over  the  stables. 

We  find  these  arrangements  adopted  with  triflmg  variations 
in  most  of  the  mansions  of  the  seventeenth  century.  There  is  a 
marked  distinction  between  the  apartments  connected  with  the 
outside  world  and  those  reserved  for  domestic  privacy.  There 
are  special  stairs  foi-  all  the  apartments,  and  on  the  first  story 
the  large  reception-rooms  serving  for  means  of  communication 
between  these  private  apartments.  Along  the  public  road  are 
the  outbuildings  or  secondary  apartments.  The  rooms  for  the 
family  and  the  halls  reserved  for  receptions  look  on  the 
garden  and  the  coiir  d'honneur  only.  All  this  is  frankly  and 
clearly  expressed,  and  the  grandiose  arrangements  of  symme- 
trical architectiu-e  adopted  in  the  seventeenth  century  accord 
with  this  simplicity  of  arrangement. 

The  requirements  of  the  present  day  are  evidently  more 
complex ;  they  imply  more  specialised  arrangements  and  more 
numerous  private  communications  and  minor  adjuncts :  they 
would  consequently  demand  an  architectural  style  less  grandiose 


261 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


in  aspect  but  less  simple  in  its  dispositions,  and  cannot  be  easily 
accommodated  to  symmetrical  composition. 


Fio.  3. 


The  works  of  Le  Muet  and  De  Marot  are  in  the  libraries  of 
all  architects ;  it  is  easy  therefore,  without  enlarging  on  the 
architectural  aiTangements  of  the  great  mansions  of  the  seven- 
teenth centuiy,  to  understand  the  pomj^ous  style  adopted  in  the 
construction  of  these  dwellings. 

In  order  to  be  adapted  to  our  present  requirements,  the  plans 
we  have  just  given  must  evidently  undergo  important  modifica- 


LECTURE  XVII.  265 

tions.  We  could  not  now  make  a  carriage-way  the  communication 
between  the  kitchen  and  the  dining-room.  We  should  want  at 
least  two  di-awing-rooms  on  the  ground  floor,  dressing-rooms  and 
wardrobes  attached  to  each  of  the  bed-rooms,  and  a  number  of 
minute  arrangements  which  are  here  omitted.  The  broad  con- 
tinuity characterising  the  life  of  persons  belonging  to  the  higher 
classes  of  former  times  has  been,  so  to  speak,  broken  up  into  a 
number  of  ininute  occupations  and  consequent  desiderata,  the 
complete  satisfaction  of  wliich  does  not  comport  wath  those 
grandiose  arrangements  whose  unifomiity  rendei'S  them  com- 
prehensible at  a  glance. 

A  social  condition  of  aristocratic  character  introduces  in- 
timate, and,  so  to  speak,  familiar  relations  between  superiors, 
and  inferiors,  which  clisappear  in  democratic  societies.  Domestic 
architecture  bears  the  impress  of  this  change  in  manners.  When 
the  classes  of  society  are  separated  by  distances  that  cannot  be 
crossed,  those  of  the  higher  grades,  assured  that  neither  personal 
merit,  nor  intrigue,  nor  violence,  will  be  able  to  rob  them  of 
their  distinction,  do  not  raise  useless  barriers  between  them- 
selves and  the  subordinate  classes ;  on  the  contrary,  the  very 
need  of  companionship  soon  gives  rise  to  intimate  relations 
connecting  all  ranks  from  the  lowest  to  the  highest. 

Both  in  the  chateaux  and  in  the  mansions  the  life  of  the 
noblesse  was  quite  unsecluded ;  it  was  not  deemed  singidar  or 
reprehensible  for  the  mmates  of  the  dwelling,  even  those  of  an 
inferior  class,  to  go  in  and  out  in  every  part  of  the  building. 
Life  was  lived  in  common  without  inconvenience,  because  there 
was  no  reason  to  fear  that  subordinates  would  ever  forget  the 
social  distance  that  separated  them  from  then-  superiors. 

It  is  not  so  in  a  democratic  state  of  society;  there  the 
higher  class  require  material  barriers  to  protect  them  from  the 
presumption  and  encroachments  of  inferiors.  Such  serious 
alterations  in  the  habits  of  society  are  reflected  in  domestic 
architecture,  in  a  number  of  precautionary  details  devised 
with  a  view  to  seciu-e  the  independence  of  the  master  of  the 
house,  and  to  secm-e  his  domestic  privacy  from  the  curiosity  of 
subordinates  whom  no  moral  tie  attaches  to  the  family,  who 
are  little  devoted  to  its  interests,  if  they  are  not  imfriendly  or 
en\'ious. 

We  conclude  from  the  above  that  domestic  ai'chitecture 
in  an  aristocratic  state  of  society  may  afiect  a  breadth  and 
simphcity  in  its  arrangements  which  would  be  intolerable  in  a 
democratic  condition,  where  each  department  in  the  dwelling 
must  be  distmct  and  definite,  in  proportion  to  the  equality  before 
the  law  that  exists  between  masters  and  servants.  In  ancient 
times  the  slave  was  considered  as  belongmg  to  the  family,  and 


26G  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

the  master  could  the  more  freely  adinit  him  to  intimacy  with 
himself,  as  the  law  gave  him  but  little  protection.  And  though 
slavery  had  no  legal  existence  in  that  elder  period  of  French 
social  life,  the  servants  were  m  fact  so  absolutely  dependent  on 
their  master, — they  were  so  absolutely  his  chattels, — that  he 
soon  came  to  consider  the  domestics  attached  to  his  hovise 
as  forming  part  of  the  family, — that  is  to  say,  as  interested  in 
the  preservation  of  what  down  to  the  sixteenth  century  was 
called  the  maisonnee  (household). 

Neither  the  city  nor  the  country  mansion  had  any  need  to 
take  precautions,  except  against  the  world  outside.  Within, 
eveiything  was,  as  it  were,  in  common. 

This  state  of  things  is  impossible  in  a  social  condition  in 
which  the  servant  is  a  stranger  hired  by  the  week,  and  whom 
no  other  lien  but  wages  attaches  to  the  family  with  whom  he 
lives.  Then  not  only  must  the  house  be  closely  walled  in,  but 
the  life  of  each  of  the  family  must  have  its  privacy  secured 
against  the  curiosity  of  these  mercenary  strangers.  In  the 
"  hotels  "  of  former  centuries  there  appeared  nothing  unseemly  in 
listening  through  the  doors  to  the  talk  of  the  valets  in  the  ante- 
chambers or  courts,  any  more  than  there  would  now  in  listening 
to  the  prattle  of  children  playing  in  a  neighbouring  apartment. 
But  in  our  days  this  is  not,  and  could  not  be,  tolerated.  Thus, 
whatever  can  be  done  to  hinder  it,  what  we  gain  in  social  con- 
ditions on  the  one  side  we  lose  on  the  other.  Judging  of  things 
superficially,  our  ancient  "  hotels  "  seem  to  be  adapted  to  demo- 
cratic customs,  and  those  of  the  present  day  to  aristocratic 
usages  pushed  to  excess,  since  we  require  that  each  apartment 
should  on  occasion  be  a  kind  of  isolated  and  independent  sanc- 
tuary, secluded  from  observation.  Thus  democratic  institutions, 
whose  intention  is  to  establish  equality  between  citizens,  and 
obliterate  distinctions  of  castes  and  classes,  produce  an  effect 
diametrically  opposite  in  many  points,  and  particularly  in  the 
dw^ellings  of  those  whom  fortime  favoiu's.  If  we  have  no  longer 
any  reason  to  fear  a  servile  war,  we  may  have  to  count  upon 
enmity  on  the  j^art  of  those  who  are  paid  for  their  services 
against  those  who  pay  them.  And  it  is  certain  that  whereas  in 
ancient  times,  many  masters  might  reckon  on  the  devotedne.ss 
of  slaves  born  in  their  houses,  and  who  from  mfancy  had 
been  in  servitude  in  the  family,  there  is  scarcely  a  master  or 
employer  of  labour  now  who  has  not  an  enemy,  or  at  least 
a  person  indifferent  to  his  interests,  in  the  servant  or  work- 
man whom  he  pays. 

The  inference  is — for  I  am  not  wishing  to  enter  ujDon  the 
discussion  of  a  vexed  social  question — that  we  must  adopt  a 
style  of  domestic  architecture  in  accordance  with  this  state  of 


LECTURE  XVII.  267 

manners, — these  complicated,  often  somewhat  paltry,  considera- 
tions and  requirements,  showing  an  excess  of  distnistfiilness  ; 
and  that  it  would  be  irrational  to  endeavour  to  combine  the 
grandeur  of  our  ancient  mansions  with  the  fastidious  refine- 
ments of  modern  domestic  comfort.  Symmetry  admitted  of 
being  allied  with  the  stately  arrangements  presented  by  the 
plans  of  mansions  in  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries  ; 
but  it  becomes  a  source  of  extreme  embarrassment  in  our  modern 
constructions,  since  it  obliges  us  to  distort  the  plans  and  adopt 
inconvenient  and  sham  arrangements  and  to  lose  valuable  space. 
When,  e.g.  apartments  of  nearly  equal  dimensions  occurred  along 
a  facade,  it  was  natural  to  light  these  apartments  by  windows 
of  equal  dimensions  ;  but  when  the  requirements  of  the  inhabi- 
tants of  a  mansion  are  such,  that  very  large  and  very  small 
apartments  must  be  in  close  proximity  to  each  other,  it  is  not 
only  in  very  bad  taste  but  very  inconvenient  to  give  all  these 
rooms  ^^dndows  equal  in  size  and  the  same  height  of  ceiling. 
The  true  principle,  whose  importance  and  value  cannot  be  dis- 
puted, had  been  frankly  applied  down  to  the  sixteenth 
century,  when  in  the  arrangement  of  the  several  parts  of  the 
building  very  large  halls  were  erected  and  rooms  of  very  small 
dimensions  close  to  them.  With  a  freedom  which  cannot  be 
too  much  commended,  they  made  liberal  use  of  corbellings  and 
pi'ojections  to  secure  varied  prospects  and  favourable  positions, 
of  open  or  closed  loggias,  of  entresols  quite  conspicuous  from  the 
outside,  and  of  openings  in  the  rooms,  not  for  the  sake 
of  symmetry  but  to  establish  ready  communication  and  free 
views.  Such  a  liberty  would  greatly  simphfy  the  task  of 
architects  commissioned  to  build  mansions  if  they  would  avail 
themselves  of  it,  and  if  their  clients  did  not  msist,  before  all 
things,  on  displaying  outside  an  architectm-e  pompously  sym- 
metrical. I  may  add  that  buildings  would  then  be  secured  of 
a  better  and  less  expensive  construction  than  those  which  are 
now  erected  on  uTational  principles. 

I  am  aware  that  many  well-meaning  persons  look  upon  the 
disregard  of  what  are  called  the  laws  of  symmetry  as  a  kind  of 
impiety,  a  contempt  for  ancient  and  sound  traditions  :  as  if  the 
most  ancient  traditions,  and  consequently  those  which  should 
be  most  respected  by  believers  in  traditions,  were  not  m  flagrant 
contradiction  with  these  supposed  laws,  wliich  are  m  fact  very 
recent.  There  are  some  of  these  observances  and  ideas  which 
each  in  his  secret  judgment  or  on  the  slightest  reflection 
recognises  as  absm-d  and  false,  but  which  no  one  ventures  to 
contravene.  Each  is  waiting  for  his  neighbour  to  display  the 
requisite  moral  courage.  All  would  gladly  follow  the  movement, 
but  are  very  carefixl  not  to  provoke  it.    Symmetry  is  one  of  these 


2G8  LECTURES  ON  A  RCIIITECTVRE. 

unhappy  ideas  to  which  we  sacrifice  our  well-being  as  far  as  our 
dweUings  are  concerned,  and  sometimes  our  common  sense,  and 
a  considerable  amount  of  money  always. 

It  is  desirable  that  architects  of  repute  should  take  advantage 
of  the  occasions  which  present  themselves  for  beginning  the 
reformation,  when  they  meet  with  a  chent  whose  ideas  are  just 
and  reasonable.  The  example  would  soon  be  followed,  for  the 
advantage  resulting  from  the  abandonment  of  their  pretentious 
follies  would  soon  be  manifest.  Many  have  ventured  to  dis- 
regard the  laws  of  symmetry  in  building  houses  in  the  country, 
but  it  seems  there  are  more  difficidties  in  the  case  of  mansions 
in  the  city.  In  fact  it  is  matter  of  fashion.  People  think  it 
necessary  that  their  houses  in  the  city  should  be  irreproachable 
in  point  of  symmetry,  in  the  same  way  as  they  make  it  a  matter 
of  conscience  not  to  appear  in  the  streets  with  anything  but 
the  usual  hat  on  their  heads,  and  the  customary  di'ess  on  theii' 
persons.  WiU  the  rude  shock  we  have  recently  experienced 
lead  us  back  to  more  correct  ideas  and  induce  us  to  abandon 
puerile  prejudices  ?  I  wish  rather  than  hope  for  it.  It  is  not 
the  less  incumbent  on  us  to  endeavour  to  show  the  advantages 
that  would  result  from  abandoning  these  prejudices,  which, 
while  they  run  away  with  our  money,  are  entii'ely  alien  to  art. 
The  very  essence  of  art,  as  far  as  arcliitecture  is  concerned, 
consists  in  knowing  how  to  clothe  every  object  with  a  form 
appropriate  to  that  object,  not  in  making  a  magnificent  case, 
and  afterwards  considering  how  the  requisite  arrangements  can 
be  accommodated  in  that  case. 

Every  one  who  wants  a  mansion  built  for  him  submits  a 
programme  of  his  requirements.  If  he  is  incapable  of  doing  so, 
it  is  for  the  architect  to  make  up  for  his  incompetence,  or  the 
indefiniteness  of  his  ideas,  by  explauiing  his  presumed  wants  to 
him  and  himself  preparing  the  programme.  And  to  eveiy 
architect  worthy  of  the  name,  a  programme  that  is  weU  drawn 
up  and  clear,  and  which  is  not  liable  to  any  false  interpreta- 
tion, is  half  the  battle ;  on  one  condition,  however ;  that  he 
complies  with  it  in  every  particular,  that  he  completely  satisfies 
it,  that  he  wiU  not  content  himself  with  mere  approximations, 
nor  seek  to  conceal  his  failiue  to  perform  certain  conditions  of  it 
under  the  seductive  appearance  of  architectural  prescription. 

Many  clients  are  deceived  by  this  stratagem,  and  have  to 
repent,  when  the  building  is  finished,  that  they  have  allowed 
themselves  to  be  seduced  by  an  outward  show  which  flattered 
their  vanity  as  proprietors. 

Few  in  number  are  those  clients  who  know  exactly  what 
they  want ;  while  on  the  contrary  gi-eat  is  the  number  of  those 
who  have  what  they  call  an  idea, — sometimes  a  mere  dreamy 


LECTURE  XVII.  2G9 

conception,  impossible  to  realise ;  ov  perhaps  (as  mansions  are  in 
qviestion)  this  idea  consists  in  getting  a  house  whose  exterior 
shall  present  the  appearance  of  that  occupied  by  Monsieur  L. 
or  N.  Whether  such  a  case  will  be  capable  of  suitably  contain- 
ing what  they  need  is  an  inquuy  that  has  not  even  crossed 
their  minds.  They  want  the  columns,  the  cornices,  the  windows 
of  the  h  otel  de  .  .  .  and  likewise  the  flight  of  steps  in  front,  and 
the  attics,  and  the  chimneys,  and  the  oval  drawing-room,  and 
the  grand  staircase.  "It  is  a  copy  of  the  hotel  de  .  .  .  then 
that  you  wish,"  the  architect  responds.  "  Oh  no  ;  that  is  much 
too  large  for  me ;  besides,  I  want  only  two  stories,  and  that  has 
three  ;  and  it  has  a  garden,  whereas  I  cannot  have  one  in.  the 
ground  at  my  disposal ;  moreover,  the  kitchens  are  on  the  wing, 
and  I  want  my  offices  below  ground ;  its  reception-rooms  are  on  the 
first  story,  and  I  wish  mine  on  the  ground-floor ;  besides,  I  am 
anxiovis  to  have  an  entresol  for  the  servants,  the  children,  etc." 
"Then  be  so  kind  as  to  give  me  your  programme  of  require- 
ments."— Now  it  is  certain  that  this  programme  will  no  more 
accommodate  itself  to  the  hotel  de  .  .  .  than  to  the  great 
Temple  of  Baalbec.  If  the  architect  have  a  little  good  sense  and 
conscience,  and  the  client  is  m  any  degree  obstinate — which 
sometimes  happens — they  separate  without  anything  having  been 
accomplished.  But  what  may  surprise  us  is  that  such  a  chent 
will  find,  as  I  said  just  now,  an  .  .  .  "architect "  who  wUl  do  all 
that  he  likes,  who  will  produce  a  plan  similar  to  the  hotel  de  .  .  . 
with  its  oval  di'a wing-room  and  columns  ;  he  will  cleverly  manage 
to  introduce  the  entresol  and  the  underground  kitchens  requu-ed , 
and  aU  that  is  wanted.  The  thing  that  is  built  will  be 
uninhabitable  ;  there  will  be  fundamental  errors  of  construction  : 
and  the  proprietor  will  go  to  law  with  his  complaisant  architect, 
and  will  apply  to  the  one  who  was  less  so — as  an  expert — to  give 
evidence  against  him.  But  let  us  not  be  too  sweeping  in  our 
censure ;  there  are  some  clients  who  have  intelligence  and 
common  sense,  who  apply  to  competent  architects  and  place 
entire  confidence  in  them,  and  who  when  they  have  determined 
on  then-  progi-amme  commit  the  aftair  entu-ely  to  them.  And 
it  is  with  such  clients  that  it  would  be  worth  while  to  see  if 
something  reasonable  could  not  be  attempted. 

A  modern  mansion,  though  it  presents  complicated  details, — 
a  series  of  arrangement  much  more  broken  up  than  was  the  case 
n-ith  the  ancient  ones, — exhibits  certain  fundamental  similarities. 
There  is  one  part  reserved  for  the  reception  of  \'isitors  and 
relations  with  the  world  outside,  and  another  part  for  domestic 
privacy.  Though  on  certain  occasions  these  are  connected,  m 
the  ordinary  course  of  life  they  are  perfectly  distinct.  Con- 
venience and  economy  both  suggest  that  they  should  not  be 


270  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

intermingled  with  each  other.  It  will  be  observed  that  in  the 
mansions  of  former  days  this  principle  was  the  predominant  one, — 
a  prhiciple  which  is  perhaps  more  imperative  now  than  it  was  of 
old.  Whether  a  mansion  be  divided  mto  two  distinct  sections, 
one  composing  the  reception-rooms,  and  the  other  those  for  the 
family,  or  whether  one  story  is  allotted  to  the  former  service, 
and  the  others  to  the  latter,  the  condition  in  question  is  a  domi- 
nant one.  But  there  are  always  inconveniences  and  difficulties, 
as  regards  the  construction,  in  placing  apartments  relatively 
small,  and  complicated  arrangements,  over  large  rooms.  This  is 
probably  one  of  the  reasons  which  in  the  old  mansions  led  to 
the  placing  of  the  reception-rooms  on  the  first  story,  and  the 
dwelling-rooms  on  the  ground-floor.  It  was  desirable  for  the 
sake  of  the  building  to  put  what  was  comparatively  light  over 
what  was  heavier,  on  account  of  the  number  of  partitions. 
However,  the  flues  required  on  the  ground  floor  in  a  great 
number  of  rooms  could  not  readily  pass  through  much  larger 
rooms  above.  Besides,  om-  modern  habits  are  better  suited  to 
dwelling-rooms  on  the  first  story  than  on  the  ground-floor ;  for 
very  few  mansions  can  boast  those  extensive  courts  and  gardens 
which  render  living  on  the  ground-floor  agreeable.  There  are 
therefore  nine  chances  to  one  that  the  programme  given  to  the 
architect  will  require  reception-rooms  on  the  ground-floor,  and 
living-rooms  on  the  other  stories.  We  require — so  large  is  our 
circle  of  friends — for  the  generally  very  tlu'onged  receptions  of 
our  times,  spacious  apartments,  easy  of  access,  so  that  those 
galleries  which  were  so  much  in  vogue  in  the  sixteenth  and 
seventeenth  centimes  no  longer  suit  us.  We  requu-e  means  of 
free  circulation  on  account  of  the  multitude  of  guests ;  and  that 
every  part  may  be  readily  accessible  without  the  necessity  of 
crossing  the  apartments.  These  requirements  imply  at  the 
outset  buddings  two  rooms  wide  ;  on  the  other  hand,  for  private 
habitation  these  very  broad  budduigs  are  very  inconvenient ;  they 
leave  apartments  or  at  least  passages  dark  and  vmventilated, 
and  they  necessitate  aspects  injurious  to  health,  leaving  those 
gloomy  recesses  which  in  plans  are  disguised  as  degagements. 

Whenever  you  see  the  word  degagements  in  a  plan,  be  on 
your  guard  !  This  word  generally  mdicates  a  space  that  cannot 
be  usefully  employed.  On  the  surfaces  occupied  by  these 
degagements  in  the  mansions  of  Paris  and  other  cities  hundreds 
of  families  might  find  a  lodging ;  at  any  rate  if  they  were  wisely 
used  the  mansions  in  question  would  give  much  more  comfortable 
accommodation  to  then-  mmates. 

This  brief  review  therefore  shows  us  that  in  fact  the  pro- 
gramme of  a  mansion  which  had  reception  rooms  on  the  ground 
floor,  and  private  rooms  in  the  upper  stories,  presents  no  trifling 


LECTURE  XVII.  271 

difficulties,  since  the  part  supported  has  no  similaiity  to  that 
which  supports  it,  not  only  as  regards  the  arrangement,  but  also 
the  construction. 

It  is  not  by  studying  the  houses  of  Pompeii  which  have  only 
a  ground  floor  that  we  can  solve  this  problem.  Nor  can  this  be 
accomplished  by  copying  the  architecture  of  recent  centuries, 
since  it  is  evident  that  the  plans  given,  2  and  3,  cannot  satisfy 
our  present  requirements.  It  is  therefore  to  the  resources 
supplied  by  our  own  common  sense  and  reason  that  we  must 
apply  for  the  solution  of  the  problem,  proceeding  as  our  prede- 
cessors had  the  wisdom  to  proceed :  that  is,  by  adopting  new 
arrangements  without  troubling  ourselves  about  the  forms  applied 
to  old  ones  whose  conditions  were  diflerent  from  those  we  have 
to  deal  with. 

Although  we  might  mention  many  mansions  in  Paris  and  in 
the  provinces  which  exhibit  much  talent  and  carefld  attention 
on  the  part  of  the  architects  who  have  designed  them,  the 
mansion  exactly  suited  to  modern  requirements  still  remains  to 
be  discovered  ;  and  among  the  best  I  do  not  know  one  whose 
construction  shows  a  real  enfranchisement  from  the  bondage 
of  traditions  which  are  in  the  present  day  very  embarrassing, 
which  nothing  compels  us  to  respect,  and  adherence  to  which  robs 
these  private  dwellings  of  that  character  which  each  period 
ought  to  impress  on  buildings  of  the  kind  stdl  more  than 
on  pubhc  edifices. 

There  have  been  times  when  public  architecture,  havuig  lost 
all  character  of  its  own,  followed  in  the  wake  of  enfeebled  art ; 
but  during  those  very  periods  domestic  architecture,  not  sub- 
jected to  the  narrow  ideas  of  a  Government  or  of  an  Academy, 
was  still  able  to  imprint  its  own  seal  upon  its  designs. 

It  has  been  reserved  for  our  own  age  to  allow  this  last  vestige 
of  originality  to  be  lost.  Let  architects  of  abiUty,  therefore,  who 
have  not  the  ambition  to  secure  a,  fauteuil  at  the  Institute,  or 
who  have  not  set  their  mmds  on  forcing  open  for  themselves 
the  doors  of  administrative  boards  wliich  are  entirely  under  the 
control  of  a  privileged  body,  set  themselves  to  work  and  seek  for 
a  solution  of  the  problems  suggested  in  the  domestic  architecture 
of  the  day.  What  we  say  respectmg  mansions  applies,  as  w^e 
shall  presently  see,  to  ordinary  houses  in  the 'city  and  the  country, 
whose  programmes  are  far  from  being  satisfactorily  treated.  A 
vast  field  of  study  and  labom-  is  presented  here,  and  we  may 
even  assert  that  the  clear  and  practical  solution  of  these  problems 
woidd  be  the  best  means  of  preventing  the  shameless  perversion 
of  principles  exhibited  in  the  construction  of  our  pubhc  buildiiigs. 
We  should  thus  form  the  taste  of  the  higher  classes,  wliich 
has  been  all  but  utterly  corrupted  by  the  sight  of  the  architec- 


27-2  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

tiiral  vagaries  exhibited  by  the  pubUc  edifices  with  which  our 
cities  have  been  tilled. 

We  shall  content  ourselves  with  seeking  for  the  right  way, 
and  indicating  the  means  of  discovering  it  according  to  the  plan 
hitherto  adopted  m  these  Lectures. 

The  English,  who  are  a  practical  people,  and  who  have  not  the 
classical  prejudices  familiar  to  ourselves,  but  for  which  we  pay 
dearly,  have  in  many  cases  adopted  in  their  country-houses,  and 
even  in  some  city-mansions,  an  arrangement  wliich  may  have  its 
advantages.  This  consists  in  the  adoption  of  a  great  central 
hall  lighted  from  above,  and  around  which  the  family  apartments 
and  those  of  the  servants  are  grouped.  We  have  in  fact  the 
patio  of  the  Moorish  house  under  cover. 

But  the  English  have  preserved  to  a  certain  point  those 
arrangements  for  life  in  common  in  the  household  to  which  I 
recently  referred.  Domestic  life  in  England,  as  m  every  aristo- 
cratic state  of  society,  is  kept  in  that  condition  approximating  to 
that  of  the  family,  strictly  so  called,  which  is  the  best  guarantee 
for  internal  well-being  and  tranquilhty.  The  great  central  hall, 
provided  with  galleries  or  balconies  above,  which  establish  com- 
munication with  the  private  apartments,  is  thus  left  visible  to 
all  the  servants  of  the  country  or  city  mansion.  This  is  the 
"  hall"  or  court,  accessible  to  all  and  open  to  all.  This  would 
not  suit  our  French  habits  ;  besides,  such  large  halls  lighted  from 
above  are  gloomy, — remind  us  somewhat  of  a  prison, — whereas 
we,  as  curious  people,  like  to  see  what  is  going  on ;  and  when  we  are 
placed  between  four  walls  without  ojaenuigs  to  the  outside  world 
at  the  height  of  our  vision,  our  first  impulse  is  to  escape  as  soon 
as  possible.  The  arrangements  of  English  mansions,  therefore, 
though  they  deserve  to  be  studied,  and  may  furnish  some  details 
which  it  would  be  well  to  imitate,  do  not  suit  our  customs. 

We  French  do  not  like  this  contact  with  the  servants  of  the 
household.  Each  of  us  wishes  for  isolation ;  and  there  is  no 
country  where  individualism  (if  I  may  thus  use  the  word)  is  in 
more  vigorous  force.  And  it  is  not  for  architects  to  undertake 
to  reform  our  habits  and  manners  m  pomts  m  which  they  are 
objectionable  or  carry  good  principles  too  far,  but  to  make  their 
buildings  conform  to  them,  or  refuse  then  concurrence  if,  as 
may  happen  in  circumstances  that  need  not  be  particularised, 
conditions  are  presented  to  them  whose  fulfilment  would  be 
repugnant  to  theii'  reason  and  conscience. 

Our  modern  requirements  are  multiplied,  compHcated,  and  in 
some  respects  even  undignified ;  yet  we  pretend  to  something 
like  state  when  we  invite  our  friends  and  acquamtances  to  our 
mansions,  though  generally  they  are  mere  strangers,  or  such  as  we 
only  know  through  having  seen  them  once  or  twice  m  society. 


LECTURE  XVII.  273 

But,  I  repeat  it,  it  is  not  for  the  architect  to  remonstrate 
with  his  clients  on  this  point,  or  to  protest  against  these  odd 
customs,  but  to  manage  as  well  as  he  reasonably  can  to  render 
the  buildings  with  which  he  is  commissioned  conformal^le  to 
them.  The  task  is  not  an  easy  one,  I  allow.  But  have  energetic 
efforts  been  made  to  perform  it  1 

We  may  remark  in  passing  that  the  display  required,  as  well 
as  the  complicated  exigencies  of  daily  life,  generally  have  to 
be  provided  for  at  the  lowest  cost.  People  wish  to  make  a  show, 
and  to  have  their  comforts  ;  but  they  wish  it  to  be  understood 
that  no  very  great  expense  is  to  be  incurred, — another  difficulty. 
When  the  ground  is  paid  for  at  the  rate  of  £20  per  square  yard, 
at  the  lowest  figure,  and  the  budding  costs,  on  an  average,  for 
a  mansion,  £40  per  yard,  there  must  be  economy  both  in  the 
construction  and  in  the  space  it  occupies.  The  great  point, 
therefore,  is  to  manage  so  that  there  may  be  no  surfaces  lost, 
and  to  avoid  external  magnihcence  which  adds  nothing  to  the 
merit  of  the  work,  but  which  on  the  other  hand  draws  largely 
on  the  client's  purse  without  contributing  anything  to  his  com- 
fort. This  might  be  done  in  the  construction  of  those  ancient 
mansions  which  were  very  simple  in  point  of  plan,  and  whose 
unsophisticated  arrangements  cost  little  to  provide  for ;  and 
besides  it  must  be  observed  that  the  exteriors  of  those  old 
mansions,  with  rare  exceptions,  do  not  present  a  very  rich  or 
ornamented  appearance.  But  in  the  present  day  there  is  really 
no  reason  for  the  magnificent  disjilays  of  frontage,  and  they 
interest  no  one.  But  I  must  recall  this  last  statement :  they  do 
tend  to  keep  up  that  brooding  hatred  which  the  less  wealthy 
classes  cherish  against  opulence  and  against  those  who  make  a 
foolish  display  of  it  to  their  own  prejudice.  I  do  not  assert  that 
we  ought,  as  the  Orientals  do,  to  disguise  the  internal  splendours 
of  a  palace  behind  bare  white-washed  walls  ;  but  between  that 
hypocritical  semblance  of  poverty  and  the  luxurious  display 
which  leaves  no  impression  except  in  the  mind  of  the  envious,  a 
rational  via  media  may,  I  think,  be  found. 

And  the  same  may  be  said  with  regard  to  that  symmetry 
whose  abuse  should  be  reprobated.  It  would  be  still  more 
ridiculous  to  proscribe  it  absolutely  and  to  design  u-regular  plans 
for  the  mere  love  of  u-regularity.  When  the  tenor  of  a  programme 
lends  itself  to  symmetrical  arrangements,  it  would  be  puerile  not 
to  take  advantage  of  it ;  for  we  cannot  be  blind  to  the  fact  that 
cu'cumstances  often  present  themselves  in  which  a  symmetrical 
disposition  is  a  satisfaction  to  the  mind  and  to  the  eye.  But 
the  mind  and  eye  must  be  able  to  take  in  this  symmetry  whether 
in  a  public  or  private  building  :  a  result  which  is  often  produced 
in  the  interiors  of  houses,  but  seldom  on  the  outside,  especially 

VOL.  II.  3 


•>H  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

in  dwellings  which,  like  large  hotels,  can  only  be  seen  in  parts, 
and  not  altogether.  However  this  may  be,  it  wovdd  seem 
i-easonable  never  to  sacrifice  absolute  requirements,  or  rather 
arrangements  which  ought  to  comply  with  those  requirements, 
to  symmetry.  A  bad  arrangement  is  a  nuisance  felt  constantly, 
while  the  pleasure  which  a  symmetrical  arrangement  produces 
is  soon  forgotten. 

In  regard  to  symmetry,  then,  we  should  observe  a  reasonable 
medium  ;  and  it  is  for  men  of  talent,  who  know  their  business,  to 
discover  that  medium.  What  should  not  be  tolerated  in  any 
case  is  symmetrical  rows  of  windows  on  a  facade  which  internal 
arrangements  oblige  us  to  cut  by  floors,  partitions,  and  staircases. 
And  architects  can  bear  witness  how  excessively  these  hypocrisies 
and  insults  to  common  sense  and  to  the  most  elementary  laws 
of  our  art  are  indulged  in. 

In  the  budding  of  our  mansions  there  is  also  another  impor- 
tant condition,  which  it  is  not  always  possible  to  comply  with  : 
the  orientation,  i.e.  position  as  regards  aspect.  In  our  temperate 
climate  a  position  north  or  south  ofiers  serious  inconveniences. 
There  will  be  excessive  heat  during  some  months  on  the  south 
side,  and  cold  and  absolute  deprivation  of  sun  during  the  other 
months,  on  the  north.  But  the  architect  who  has  to  build  on 
a  certain  ground  is  not  free  to  choose  the  position  most  suitable 
to  his  ei'ections  in  a  city  where  space  is  often  hmited  and  where 
the  entrances  are  on  the  public  thoroughfares. 

These  are  the  cases,  however,  m  which  we  must  proceed  with 
skilful  caution,  and  endeavo\ir  to  discover  such  an  arrangement 
as  will  allow  us  to  avail  ourselves  of  the  advantages,  and  avoid 
the  inconveniences,  of  such  or  such  a  position.  If  a  site  stretches 
from  north  to  south,  it  is  evident  that  a  building  erected  across 
it,  between  the  court  and  the  garden  for  example,  will  have  one 
of  its  aspects  deprived  of  the  sun  for  nine  months  in  the  year, 
and  the  other  exposed  to  its  rays  from  the  1st  of  Januaiy  to 
the  31st  of  December.  The  apartments  opening  on  the  former 
will  be  very  difficult  to  warm,  and  unhealthy  in  winter,  while 
those  which  open  on  the  latter  wUl  be  uninhabitable  during  the 
summer. 

One  last  remark  suofijests  itself  in  reference  to  the  buildinfr  of 
mansions  answering  to  our  requirements.  While  we  wish  to  pre- 
vent the  intrusion  of  our  domestics  into  our  daily  life,  and  desire 
that  the  former  should  as  little  as  possible  come  in  contact  with 
the  latter,  on  the  other  hand  we  have  not  so  many  servants  as  were 
kept  in  the  mansions  of  former  times.  In  fact,  we  may  say  that 
as  compared  with  those  days  their  number  is  now  reduced  to 
a  minimum.  We  must  therefore  avoid  the  necessity  of  their 
having   to   traverse  long   distances.     When   we  do   not   need 


LECTURE  XVII.  275 

theii-  services^  their  presence  is  midesirable ;  but  wlien  we  require 
a  servant,  we  wisli  that  there  should  be  no  delay  in  giving  our 
orders.  These  habits  require  an  easy  and  rapid  concentration  of 
the  service,  and  communications  specially  reserved  for  it. 

Let  us  attempt,  if  not  the  com]3lete  fulfilment  of  this  pro- 
gramme,— to  which  it  would  be  ridiculous  to  23i'etend, — to 
indicate  at  least  the  method  to  be  followed  in  satisfying  it.  To 
do  this  we  must  jtresent  definite  plans ;  this  is  the  form  of 
expression  that  excludes  vagueness  and  ambiguity.  Criticism 
is  easy,  but  the  i-ealisation  of  ideas  which  seem  at  first  of 
the  sunplest  and  clearest  order  is  a  task  of  no  small  difficulty. 

At  the  present  day,  still  more  imperatively  than  was  the 
case  in  former  times,  we  desire  that  the  reception-rooms  of  a 
mansion  should  be  distmct  from  those  reserved  for  privacy, 
simply  because  we  receive  a  good  many  people  with  whom  we 
have  but  the  slightest  acquaintance.  Tlie  ground-floor  of  a 
mansion  should  therefore  be  reserved  for  those  receptions,  and 
the  first  story  for  family  privacy.  But  as  crowds  of  visitors  are 
sometimes  entertained,  the  rooms  destined  to  receive  them  must 
be  so  arranged  that  it  may  be  easy  to  move  about  in  them,  and 
that  the  means  of  entrance  and  exit  may  be  easy ;  and  that 
isolation  may  be  possible  if,  amid  the  crowd  of  persons  we  have 
to  invite,  there  are,  as  generally  happens,  a  select  few  who 
are  more  intimately  connected.  People  should  be  able  to  find 
some  better  place  of  rendezvous  than  the  embrasures  of  doors, 
if  they  wish  to  talk  about  their  own  interests  or  affairs.  If  we 
give  a  dinner,  the  hall  in  which  we  give  it  should  be  quite 
separated  from  the  aj^artments  reserved  for  evening  receptions  : 
for  nothing  is  more  disagreeable  for  those  who  come  at  nine 
or  ten  o'clock,  than  to  be  witnesses  of  the  clearing  away  of  a 
large  table,  even  with  a  side  glance  ;  yet  the  dining-room  must 
be  very  near  the  di-awing-rooms,  so  that  one  may  pass  du-ectly 
from  one  into  the  others.  Many  other  things  are  requisite : 
we  want  an  awning  to  shelter  the  carriages ;  but  those  who 
come  and  go  on  foot, — for  in  a  democratic  state  of  society  there 
will  be  such,  as  well  as  people  who  keep  theii"  carriages, — must 
also  be  able  to  come  into  the  entrance-hall  without  passing  under 
the  horses'  noses ;  and  there  must  be  a  closed  vestibule  where 
overcoats  may  be  deposited.  Between  this  vestibule  and  the 
reception-rooms  there  must  be  a  room  where  ladies  may  assure 
themselves  of  the  state  of  their  toilet,  and  where  guests  may 
prepare  to  be  introduced.  These  antechambers  must  com- 
municate readily  with  the  servants'  rooms  of  various  functions. 
There  must  be  a  waiting-room  for  attendants  who  receive 
overcoats  and  mantles,  and  who  have  to  call  the  coachmen 
when   the  guests   leave.      A   dressing-room   will    be    requked 


276  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

for  ladies  whose  attli'e  may  have  been  somewhat  disarranged. 
But  this  antechamber  must  not  be  directly  in  view  of  the 
reception-rooms,  nor  vice  versd.  The  guests  must  not  be 
imprisoned  in  one  part  of  the  public  saloons,  but  be  able  to  make 
their  escape  at  will.  It  should  also  be  remarked  that  festive 
sounds  and  lights  should  not  attract  attention  in  the  street. 

As  regards  the  private  apartments,  which  we  suppose  to  be 
in  the  first  story,  there  must  be  a  sufficient  nimiber  of  servants' 
staircases,  besides  the  grand  staircase,  to  insure  the  rapid  and 
easy  communication  of  the  kitchens  and  servants'  rooms  with 
those  apartments.  And  besides  bedrooms  with  theii"  wardrobes 
and  dressing-rooms  there  must  be  a  waiting-room,  an  ante- 
chamber, a  dining-room  and  a  drawing-room  for  the  family  and 
intimate  friends.  Sun  and  au-  and  light  should  be  arranged 
for  in  every  part,  with  aspects  as  favourable  as  possible,  and 
ready  exits  and  entrances,  so  that  every  inmate  may  come  m 
without  attracting  attention. 

As  regards  the  servants'  offices,  underground  kitchens  should 
be  avoided,  as  being  unhealthy  for  those  who  live  in  them, 
and  undesirable  as  spreading  the  odour  of  cooking  through  the 
house.  The  kitchen  however  should  not  be  too  far  from  the 
rooms  allotted  to  repasts.  The  pantry  arrangements  should  be 
on  a  large  scale,  communicating  directly  with  the  kitchens  and 
dining-room.  Of  course  there  must  be  a  back  yard  for  the 
stables,  coach-houses,  and  kitchen  ;  and  so  placed  that  the  wash- 
ing of  carriages,  or  the  grooming  of  horses,  or  the  occupations  of 
the  scullery,  may  never  be  visible  from  the  grand  com-t. 

Such  at  least  have  been  the  requii-ements  of  a  well- planned 
mansion  up  to  the  present  moment.  And  I  do  not  suppose  that 
a  republican  form  of  government  (supposmg  it  estabhshed  in 
France)  woidd  m  any  degree  lessen  the  extent  of  this  pro- 
grarmne  ;  on  the  contrary,  a  republican  government  can  maintain 
its  position  only  on  the  condition  of  allowing  individual  distinc- 
tion to  develop  and  assert  itself,  and  consequently  great  fortunes 
to  be  accumulated,  mth  the  results  they  brmg  with  them  in  the 
shape  of  hixury,  high  life,  fetes  and  grand  receptions.  A  republic 
may  establish  and  maintam  equality  among  citizens  before  'the 
law,  but  it  does  not  favour  the  levelling  of  mental  capacities  or 
of  the  wealth  and  personal  influence  thence  derived  ;  and  on  this 
ground  we  must  consider  ourselves  little  fitted  for  a  repubhc — at 
any  rate,  as  yet.  In  the  view  of  many  of  our  countrymen  who 
profess  themselves  repubhcans,  a  repubhc  means  equahty,  not 
before  the  law, — for  among  us  every  one  endeavours  to  escape 
from  its  domuiion, — but  an  equality  implying  mediocrity ;  the 
triumph  of  envy,  which  inevitably  leads  to  despotism ;  the 
despot  looks  with  no  favourable  eye  on  great  capacities,  and  the 


LECTURE  XVII.  277 

ample  independent  fortunes  that  result  from  them  in  a  State  which 
is  really  civiUsed  ;  men  of  ability  are  swept  down  as  were  the 
poppv-heads  by  Tarquin,  to  the  great  satisfaction  of  soi-disant 
republicans  who  sooner  or  later  take  the  side  of  absolutism  from 
jealousy  towards  superior  natures. 

Architects  and  contractors  need  therefore  be  under  no 
apprehensions  from  the  estabhshment  of  a  government  truly 
republican, — that  is,  a  government  which  does  not  fetter  the 
development  of  intellectual  worth.  Under  such  a  government 
— and  may  Heaven  favour  its  establishment  in  oiu"  poor  dis- 
tracted country ! — mansions  will  be  buUt  in  greater  number 
than  ever,  if  not  for  dukes  and  marquises  who  have  no  other 
title  to  chstinction  than  ancestral  name  and  fortunes,  yet  for 
citizens  of  humble  or  noble  bnth,  who  by  their  intelligence, 
industry,  and  devotion  to  public  afPairs,  Tvill  have  acquned, 
together  with  theh  wealth,  a  preponderatmg  influence  in  the 
State,  and  an  elevated  position  in  society.  But  if  this  state  of 
things  is  to  be  reahsed,  the  repubhc  must  have  other  supporters 
than  drunkards  and  idlers,  and  must  not  be  managed  by  people 
^\'ho  see  in  its  establishment  only  the  means  of  getting  the 
places  quitted  by  the  Monarchy  or  the  Empire,  and  retaining 
them  in  connection  with  all  the  abuses  which  those  places 
brought  -ndth  them,  and  against  which  they  liad  recently 
inveighed  with  the  greatest  bitterness. 

But  let  us  consider  our  hotel,  the  progTamme  of  which  we 
liave  just  given  in  a  summary  form. 

There  is  in  eveiy  building,  I  may  say,  one  principal  organ,— 
one  dominant  part, — and  certain  secondaiy  organs  or  members, 
and  the  necessary  appliances  for  supplying  all  these  parts,  by  a 
system  of  cux-ulation.  Each  of  these  organs  has  its  own  function  ; 
but  it  ought  to  be  connected  vni\\  the  whole  body  in  proportion 
to  its  requnements. 

The  plan,  figure  4,  is  sketched  according  to  these  iDrinciples, 
exhibiting  the  ground-floor  of  a  mansion  of  medium  pretensions, 
taking  the  mansions  in  Paris  as  a  standai'd. 

We  suppose  the  ground  it  occupies  to  present  the  conditions 
most  frequently  met  with  in  the  midst  of  a  great  city, — that  is, 
with  a  frontage  couiparatively  narrow  and  becoming  broader 
towards  the  back.  We  need  not  insist  on  the  advantages  which 
buUdings  of  this  kmd  ofier,  Ijuilt  between  a  court  and  a  garden, 
far  from  the  noise  of  the  street.  But  unless  we  have  a  very  large 
space  of  ground  at  om*  disposal,  mansions  built  between  a  court 
and  a  garden  form  a  barrier  separating  them  ;  the  result  of 
which  is  that  on  the  side  of  the  court  the  aspect  is  generally 
cold  and  gloomy,  while  on  that  of  the  garden  there  is  com- 
plete isolation  with  a  monotony  of  view  and  position.     Besides, 


278 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


coj-ijifirr  .6t.:f 


Fir,.  4.— Design  for  n  Mndom  Frcnrh  Town  Mansion.— Groninl-plnn. 


LECTURE  XVII.  279 

long  rows  of  apartments  or  square  returns  make  the  arrange- 
ments of  the  house  difficult,  lengthen  communications  mth  the 
offices  at  certain  points,  and  cause  much  space  to  be  lost,  if 
we  would  have  a  free  circulation  for  the  family  and  servants. 

If,  in  order  to  avoid  the  inconveniences  resulting  from 
havuig  a  large  building  crossing  the  site,- — the  building  being  two 
rooms  deep, — we  adopt  the  block  arrangement,  we  must  provide 
air  and  light  in  the  centre ;  which  cannot  be  obtained  except 
by  means  of  that  objectionable  English  "  hall "  which  our  French 
customs  will,  I  trust,  not  tolerate. 

The  above-mentioned  considerations  have  suggested  the  plan, 
figure  4,  which  consists  of  an  octagon  65  feet  in  diameter,  with 
two  oblique  wings  on  the  garden  side,  and  a  tliiixl  wing,  likewise 
obhque,  overlooking  the  coiu't. 

Whatever  the  aspects  of  the  site,  the  sun  would  thus  dry 
and  warm  three-fourths  of  the  walls  at  least ;  and  supposing  the 
position  of  the  mansion  be  as  marked  in  the  plan,  there  would 
not  be  a  single  aspect  deprived  of  sun ;  each  would  have  the 
benefit  of  its  rays  in  turn. 

At  A  is  the  grand  entrance,  with  the  porter's  lodge  at  a ;  at 
b  a  fore-court  closed  by  a  railing ;  an  arrangement  frequently 
requu-ed  if,  for  instance,  the  family  are  absent  or  are  not  acces- 
sible to  visitors  before  a  certain  hour.  At  B  is  erected  an 
awning  for  carriages,  with  a  central  entrance  in  the  vestibule  C. 
Two  other  side-entrances  with  steps  are  provided  at  c.  This  vesti- 
bule c  opens  into  a  first  saloon  D  and  two  galleries  d ;  one  of  which 
— that  to  the  left — communicates  with  the  grand  stau'case,  and 
the  other  with  a  servants'  staircase,  the  lobby  of  the  dinmg- 
room  and  the  passages  leading  to  the  pantries.  Under  the 
grand  staircase,  in  the  basement,  is  the  room  for  attendants  on 
guests.  Glazed  doors  give  entrance  from  the  first  saloon  D, 
into  the  galleries,  wliich  are  themselves  glazed,  so  that  when  a 
levee  is  over  the  guests  may  easily  disperse  in  the  vestibule  c, 
whence  they  can  depart  through  one  of  three  doors,  two  of 
which  are  for  those  on  foot,  who  thus  avoid  encounteriog  the 
carriages.  While  the  first  saloon  opens  on  the  vestibule  through 
a  principal  central  door,  it  gives  enti'ance  to  the  great  central 
drawing-room  E  by  two  doors,  both  to  avoid  the  direct  view 
referred  to  above,  and  to  enable  the  gxiests  to  go  out  and  in 
without  passing  through  the  same  entrance. 

It  is  customary  for  the  master  or  the  mistress  of  the  house 
to  present  themselves  at  the  entrance  of  their  drawing-rooms  to 
receive  invited  guests  or  callers  ;  it  often  happens,  moreover, 
that  only  a  few  moments  can  be  devoted  to  visits  of  this  kind, 
and  it  is  a  very  awkward  thing  to  pass  before  the  master  or 
mistress  of  the  house  in   departing  when  we  have   paid    our 


280 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


respects  to  them  on  entering  only  a  few  minutes  before.  The 
two  passages  out  enable  vis  to  avoid  the  inconvenience,  either  of 
failing  somewhat  in  politeness  or  remaining  pi-isoners. 


FiG.  5.— Design  for  a  Modern  French  Town  Mansion. — First-floor  plan. 


The  gi-eat  central  drawing-room  E  opens  on  a  conservatory  or 
winter  "garden  J,  and  obliqviely  on  two  saloons  F  and  G  on  the 
wing,  which  open  likewise  on  the  conservatory.     The  saloon  G, 


LECTURE  XVII. 


281 


more  particularly  appropriated,  to  ladies,  is  terminated  by  a 
small  pai'lour  g.  The  saloon  F  opens  on  a  gallery  with,  two 
doors  into  the  garden,  and  a  smoking-room  f,  the  odours  of 
which  therefore  cannot  penetrate  into  the  other  apartments. 
At  ^  is  a  dressing-room  with  a  closet  for  ladies ;  at  i  a 
simdar  arrangement  for  the  other  sex.  These  rooms  may 
also  serve  as  retreats  in  case  of  indisposition,  or  to  conduct 
to  the  upper  stories,  either  by  the  grand  staircase  or  that  of 
the   servants.     From   the   laro-e    drawing:-room    £    or  the    first 


Fig.  6.— Design  for  a  Modem  Frencli  Towni  Mansion. — Roof  plan. 

saloon  D  we  pass  into  the  great  dining-hall  s,  which  has  a 
passage  communicating  with  the  kitchen  h  and  pantries  in  its 
vicinity  i.  The  servants'  hall  where  they  take  then-  meals  is  at 
o,  and  the  cooking  kitchen  and  its  ajipurtenances  at  p.  The 
servants'  passage  H  is  entresol  ed  ;  and  the  entresol  and  the 
gaUeiy  of  the  first  story  is  reached  by  the  servants'  staircase  R. 
But  we  shall  return  to  tliis  arrangement  directly.  Around  the 
servants'  court  T  are  coach-houses  v,  stables  x,  and  harness- 
rooms  N. 

Let  us  ascend  to  the  first  story,  allotted  to  family  privacy. 


282  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

figure  5.  The  grand  staircase  leads  at  A  to  a  wide  landing  on 
the  same  level  with  a  gallery  B  traversing  the  central  part  of  the 
building,  and  leading  to  another  gallery  c,  communicating  with 
the  offices.  At  D  is  a  large  study  or  parlour  between  the 
grand  staircase  and  the  servants'  stairs,  appropriated  to  the 
master  of  the  house.  This  room  opens  on  a  terrace  e  covering 
the  vestibule  and  the  lateral  galleries.  At  f  is  an  antechamber 
with  a  small  waiting-room  G,  and  a  private  drawing-room  H 
and  dining-room  i,  with  a  pantry  j  in'  direct  communication 
with  the  servants'  staircase  K  descending  to  the  kitchens. 
The  gallery  B  therefore  separates  the  apartments  to  which 
strangers  can  be  admitted  from  the  two  rooms  L  with  their 
dressing-rooms  M,  and  from  the  two  apartments  N,  each  furnished 
with  an  antechamber-saloon  o  and  dressing-room  r.  Above,  in 
the  attics,  are  rooms  for  the  children  and  for  servants  whose 
duties  attach  them  more  closely  to  the  family.  The  roofing, 
figure  6,  is  arranged  in  these  buildings  m  the  simplest  manner 
and  with  no  complicated  combinations.  The  wings  A  terminate 
in  gables,  an  arrangement  which  allows  of  chimneys  on  gable 
wails  and  windows  to  light  the  attics,  without  adopting  lateral 
dormer  windows  at  these  points. 

Plate  XXXIII.  gives  a  perspective  view  of  this  mansion, 
taken  in  a  north-east  direction. 

It  will  be  necessary  to  enter  into  some  details  respecting  the 
interior  arrangements  and  the  system  of  construction  adopted. 

We  give  first,  figure  7,  a  section  of  the  building  containing 
the  dining-hall  (a  section  on  the  line  a  b  of  figure  5)  with  the 
passage  for  the  servants.  The  entresol  passage  A  serves  for  a 
linen-room,  and  is  thus  in  close  proximity  to  all  the  commvuii- 
cations.  As  regards  the  gallery  B  on  the  first  story  it  gives  issue 
from  the  apartments  destined  for  the  daily  use  of  the  family. 
The  grand  staircase,  as  also  the  servants'  stairs,  reach  as  far  as 
the  attics,  wliich  are  arranged  for  apartments  of  the  second  rank, 
as  stated  above.  Beneath  the  roofing  of  the  outbuildings  there 
are  rooms  for  the  out-servants, — grooms,  coachmen,  kitchen 
attendants,  etc. 

Thanks  to  the  way  in  which  the  several  parts  of  the  main 
building  counterthrust  and  support  each  other,  considering  the 
short  lengths  of  the  outer  walls  in  proportion  to  the  surface 
covered,  that  main  building  would  not  entail  very  considerable 
expense.  Although  some  of  the  floorings  are  very  wide — that  of 
the  central  drawing-room  on  the  ground-floor,  for  example — the 
walls  that  carry  them  are  so  grouped  and  tied  together  as  to 
offer  very  firm  supports,  without  its  being  necessary  to  have 
recourse  to  extremely  massive  masonry. 

Besides,  in  many  parts,  and  in  consequence  of  the  use  of  iron 


Pl.XXXUl 


y'A.MonEL, 


/mp  lumeme'-  e/  Cf'  J'arlr 


COUF\S    D-ARCHITIiCTUI\Ii 


£    lio/U.'  £f  &uf   Jf.' 


PEF\SPFXTiVE  D'UN    HOTEL 
# 


PI  XXXIII 


I 


I 


c 


LECTURE  XVII. 


283 


supports  which  we  shall  have  to  notice  in  connection  with  the  con- 
struction of  houses,  we  should  realise  considerable  savings  if  we 
reckon  by  the  system  now  generally  adopted  in  buildings  of  this 
kind, — a  system  which  is  somewhat  obsolete,  and  little  in  harmony 
with  the  resources  furnished  by  our  manufacturing  appliances. 


Pio.  7.— Design  for  a  Modern  French  Town  Mansion. — Section  through  the  Dining-room. 

For  our  architects,  not  satisfied  with  imitating  merely  the 
exteriors  of  former  centuries,  copy  also  their  method  of  construc- 
tion, which  presents  no  advantage,  and  does  not  harmonise  with 
the  comphcated  requu-ements  that  have  to  be  comphed  with. 

Perhaps  it  may  be  desirable  to  give  a  brief  summary  of  the 
cost  of  such  buildings  as  I  have  described. 

The  surface  covered  by  the  main  building,  comprising  the 
vestibule  which  has  only  a  ground-floor,  is  1060  square  yards 
(in  round  numbers). 

Eeckoning  the  cost  of  building  at  £37  per  square  yard, 
as  the  building  has  only  one  floor  of  cellars,  a  ground- 
floor  and  a  first  story  below  the  attics,  we  should  be 


284  LECTURES  OX  ARCIITTEGTURE. 

outside  this  mark.     Tlie    principal    building    therefore 
would  require  a  sum  of  about  .         .         .       £39,200 

The  outbuildings  cover  a  surface  of  800  square 
yards.  These  buildings  allow  of  cellars  under 
one  pai't  only,  a  ground-floor  and  one  story 
in  the  roofing.  They  would  cost  on  the 
avei'age  at  most  £14  per  square  yard,  which 
gives  about    ....... 

For  drains,  paving,  water,  lighting,  and  awning 

say        ; 


Total  for  buildings,      .... 
The  whole  of  the  ground,  comprising  the  garden, 
would  be  about  6570  square  yards.     Reckon- 
ing the  land  at  £16,  16s.  j^er  square  yard,  we 
have  about £110,000 


General  total, £170,400 


The  plan  of  the  mansion  given  in  figures  2  and  3  presents  an 
extent  of  1925  square  yards,  and  for  the  outbuildings  of  790 
square  yai-ds.  Taking  into  account  their  elaborate  fronts,  the 
main  buildings  of  a  town  mansion  on  the  ordinary  plan,  even 
leaving  out  of  consideration  the  very  expensive  decorations  of 
the  interiors,  would  not  cost  less  to  build  than  those  whose 
details  we  have  been  discussmg. 

The  cost  of  the  main  buildings  would  therefore  be        £70,840 

The  outbuildings,  supposing  them   built  in  the 

way  just  suggested,  would  entail  an  outlay  of         10,560 

Adding  the  sum  assigned  above  for  accessory  works,        1 0,000 


We  get  a  total  of £91,400 

It  seems  therefore  that  the  grouping  of  the  several  parts  of 
a  dwelling  around  a  centre,  besides  greatly  facilitating  the 
domestic  arrangements,  tends  to  a  better  utilisation  of  the 
ground  occupied,  and  therefore  to  a  real  saving.  Observation 
■will  show  that  reception-rooms  forming  a  series  are  very  incon- 
venient, render  the  proper  performance  of  servants'  duties 
impossible,  and  cannot  be  made  to  accord  with  the  custom, 
prevalent  in  our  time,  of  receiving  a  large  concourse  of  people. 
The  grouping  of  the  various  buildmgs  also  facilitates  warming 
by  ccdoriferes. 

Further  argument  in  its  favour  is  needless  ;  an  examination 
of  the  plans  drawn  according  to  this  method  of  grouping  will 


LECTURE  A'VII.  285 

show  the  advantages  that  can  be  derived  from  its  apphcation  in 
the  building  of  mansions,  large  or  small.  It  would  seem  also 
possible  to  make  a  general  application  in  buildings  of  this  kind, 
of  obhque  or  polygonal  plans  ;  not  confining  ourselves,  when 
we  have  a  free  space  at  our  disposal,  to  square  plans  which 
present  parts  in  such  positions  as  render  them  difficult  to  light 
and  arrange,  except  by  sacrificing  space. 

Without  oflering  the  preceding  designs  as  a  model  to  be 
followed, — presenting  them  only  as  an  application  of  a  system  that 
accords  with  modern  requirements, — it  will  l>e  easily  seen  that 
this  method  allows  us  to  gain  numerous  openings  for  hght  in 
every  aspect,  and  leaves  no  places  unoccupied.  When  all  build- 
ings were  only  one  room  deej),  retiu'ns  at  light  angles  offered  no 
inconvenience,  because  it  was  always  easy  to  make  openings  at 
least  on  one  side,  to  light  angle  apartments ;  but  this  facihty  no 
longer  exists  if  we  liave  builclinofs  of  doul)le  thickness.  A 
geometrical  sketch  will  put  this  difficulty  hi  a  clear  light.  Let 
A,  figure  8,  be  a  building  one  room  deep.  If  the  apartment  a 
cannot  get  windows  in  the  interior  angle  b,  it  may  be  lighted 
from  the  side  c  of  the  projecting  angle  ;  but  if  a-  building  b,  two 
rooms  deep,  has  a  square  return,  it  will  be  difficult  to  light 
the  surface  /.  This  apartment  J]  therefore,  in  order  to  have 
windows,  must  encroach  upon  the  outside  walls  of  the  interior 
angle  ;  that  is,  must  have  its  limit  at  (j  or  h.  Even  then,  the 
surface y"  will  be  but  imperfectly  ventilated  or  lighted.  But  if 
we  adopt  the  geometrical  plan  c,  the  three  apartments  i  k  I 
will  be  all  perfectly  lighted.  Polygonal  plans  therefore,  with 
oblique  sections,  may  be  very  usel'ul  in  the  construction  of 
buildings  two  rooms  deep,  and  we  may  well  ask  ourselves  why 
they  are  not  more  frequently  employed.  Corner  pavilions  (as 
in  d)  may  also  be  adopted,  as  presenting  advantages  of  which 
the  architects  of  the  seventeenth  centuiy  knew  well  how  to 
take  advantage. 

These  pamllons,  forming  a  projection  within  the  interior 
angle,  also  give  rise  to  happy  architectural  efi'ects.  And  they 
are  very  convenient  for  stairs,  lol)bies,  or  accessory  apartments. 
In  builcUng  town  mansions  of  moderate  dimensions,  we  generally 
have  no  great  extent  of  ground  at  our  disposal ;  the  architect  is 
limited  to  a  comparatively  narrow  space,  shut  in  by  neigh- 
bouring properties.  We  have  to  build  against  the  walls  of 
the  next  house,  though— if  we  suppose  a  gai'den — we  must  leave 
the  space  necessary  for  passing  from  the  court  to  this  garden. 
In  this  case  an  angle  vestibule  and  staircase  offer  the  most 
advantageous  arrangements. 

Supposing  a  site  with  a  frontage  of  80  to  100  feet,  wliich 
allows  only  a  narrow  space  for  a  mansion,  it  would  be  absurd  to 


286 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


A. 


y 

^^^^ 

Wf0 

/< 

^^^^^ 

__ 

B 

Fio.  8.— Alraiigement  of  Angle  Eooms. 


LECTURE  XVII. 


287 


tlimk  of  making  central  entrances  or  grand  symmetrical  arrange- 
ments. We  shall  have  to  build  on  the  party  wall.  The 
most  convenient  arrangement  therefore  is  that  presented  by 
the  plan,  figure  9.  As  a  kitchen  courtyard  independent  of 
the  covvrt  reserved  for  the  family  is  essential,  it  would  be 
well  to  place  the  carriage  entrance  at  the  side,  at  A,  to 
facilitate  the  passage  of  vehicles  to  the  carriage  porch  B. 
Carriages  may  find  exit  through  the  passage  c,  across  the 
servants'  court  d.     The   vestibule  at 


E    in    the  ulterior   angle 


FiQ.  9.  —Plan  for  a  Small  French  Town  Mansion 


gives  achnission  to  the  saloons  F  and  G.  The  grand  staircase 
opens  under  tliis  vestibule.  The  dining-room  will  lie  at  ii, 
near  the  pantries  i,  and  the  kitchens  J.  The  coach-houses, 
stables,  and  porter's  lodge  flank  the  servants'  court  at  K.  The 
servants  easily  get  to  every  pomt  from  the  vestibule  along  the 
glazed  porticoes  or  galleries  L.  Tliese  porticoes  do  not  occupy 
the  whole  height  of  the  ground-floor,  because  it  is  deshable 
to  furnish  au'  and  direct  iUumination  above  their  roof  for  the 
servants'  rooms  on  this  wing.     The  habit  of  building  low  por- 


288  LECTURES  UJV  ARCHITECTURE. 

ticoes  of  this  kind  which  are  so  convenient  for  communication  in 
private  houses  has  been  lost.  I  do  not  know  why.  Probably 
they  are  not  considered  monumental  enough  ;  for  we  are  fond  of 
sacrificing  to  monumental  grandeur.  But  in  mansions,  down  to 
the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century,  they  were  deemed  useful, 
and  were  always  erected  when  convenience  required  them. 
Under  the  influence  of  traditions  which  in  certain  res2:)ects  are 
much  to  be  respected,  but  which  in  many  points  do  not  har- 
monise with  our  habits,  we  deprive  ourselves  of  many  appliances 
in  our  domestic  architecture  whicli  we  mii-ht  find  in  methods 
which  those  traditions  do  not  sanction,  but  especially  in  the 
suggestions  of  our  own  common  sense.  At  every  step  difficulties 
have  to  be  encountered  in  our  mansions,  and  even  in  houses  of 
less  pretensions,  which  result  from  that  want  of  agreement 
between  those  traditions  and  our  daily  wants.  Subterfuges  are 
consequently  had  recourse  to,  architectiire  is  by  no  means  the 
gainer,  and  the  inmates  thus  lose  many  advantages  of  which  they 
might  avail  themselves.  Tlie  mania  for  symmetry,  at  any  rate, 
and  the  wish  to  recall  the  style  of  the  two  last  centuries,  compel 
us  to  pervert  the  arrangements  dictated  by  modern  customs. 
If  we  examine  our  modern  houses  in  detail  we  plainly  perceive 
the  efforts,  often  fruitless  in  their  results,  to  which  architects 
are  compelled  to  resort  with  a  view  to  make  the  arrange- 
ments of  modern  buildings  accord  with  arclutectural  forms 
that  have  originated  in  requirements,  or  customs,  or  tastes, 
other  than  those  of  oui-  times.  The  extreme  complexity  of 
modern  recjuirements  should  however  leave  its  mark  on  buildings 
specially  devoted  to  the  satisfaction  of  those  requirements.  To 
clothe  the  complex  organism  of  a  modern  building  in  an 
architcctiu-al  form  originated  with  a  view  to  satisfy  wants 
comparatively  simple,  is  to  commit  an  anachronism  and  to 
produce  results  against  which  good  sense  and  therefore  good 
taste  protests. 

Considering  the  instructions  given  us  at  the  £!cole.  des  Beaux 
Arts,  and  our  long  cherished  and  deplorable  habit  of  not 
reasoning,  but  doing  what  a  predecessor  or  a  neighbour  has  done, 
we  shall  not  succeed  all  at  once  ua  adopting  an  architecture 
suitable  to  the  present  phase  of  civilisation ;  nevertheless  we 
ought  to  make  a  begimiing.  The  present  juncture  is  propitious, 
since  the  old  social  state  is  breaking  up  into  fragments  which 
no  one  seems  anxious  to  pick  up,  so  thoroughly  worm-eaten 
do  they  appear.  And  amidst  this  imbrogUo  shall  arclutects 
be  the  last  to  find  the  best  way  out  of  it  ?  If  they  do  not  or 
cannot  perform  this  task,  engineers, — who  are  less  shackled  by 
traditions  and  are  more  anxious  to  follow  a  train  of  reasoning  to 
its  consequences, — or  building  contractors,  will  accomplish  it,  and 


LECTURE  A'VII.  289 

architects  will  be  degraded  to  the  rank  of  mere  decorators ;  and 
we  might  not  stop  there  !  We  have  long  had  this  result  in 
prospect,  and  cu-cumstances  are  daily  tending  to  render  it  more 
imminent. 

Wliile  architects  are  as  unwiUing  as  they  have  been  in  times 
past  to  study  and  endeavour  to  solve  questions  of  detail  which 
are  continually  presenting  themselves  to  constructors;  wliile  they 
continue  to  make  a  cei'tain  monumental  display  the  supreme 
consideration, — a  display  which  is  of  very  doubtful  character, 
even  m  point  of  taste,  but  which  is  patronised  by  half  a  dozen 
individuals,  who  carry  all  before  them  in  the  school,  and  who 
are  unwilling  that  anythmg  should  be  taught  of  which  they  are 
ignorant ;  wliile  they  continue  to  express  an  inexphcable  con- 
tempt for  serious  examination  or  criticism,  and  a  respect  quite  as 
inexiihcable  for  works  wliich  will  bear  neither  examination  nor 
serious  criticism, — behind  these  architects  there  is  bemg  formed 
a  body  of  young  engineers,  who  "\^^ll  have  no  great  difficidty  in 
convuicuig  the  public,  and  even  administrative  boards,  however 
much  enslaved  they  may  now  be  to  routine,  of  the  insufficiency 
of  the  old  methods,  and  of  the  waste  of  the  public  money  that 
is  taking  place  under  the  plea  of  works  of  art.  Then  the 
name  of  arcliitect  will  run  a  very  close  risk  of  ceasing  to 
designate  a  practical  artist, — a  scientific  constructor  anxious  to 
promote  the  interests  confided  to  his  charge. 

I  should  anticipate  no  inconvenience  to  the  public  from  the 
disappearance  of  the  name,  if  the  business  itself  passes  mto  other 
hands  ;  and  it  matters  httle  to  that  pubhc  whether  a  wise  and 
weU-founded  system  of  architecture, — the  expression  of  our 
requu-ements  and  industrial  appliances, — is  caiTied  out  by  persons 
bearing  the  name  of  engmeers  or  architects,  provided  it  is  reaUy 
carried  out  by  some  one.  But  possibly  some  of  our  brethren  would 
not  look  on  such  a  substitution  with  an  mdifferent  eye ;  they 
would  therefore  do  well,  uistead  of  spending  their  leisure  in 
hiveighing  against  the  aggressive  spirit  of  engmeers,  to  give  their 
pupils  serious  and  practical  instruction,  and  to  develop  their 
judgment  by  the  habit  of  reasoning  on  all  the  questions  that 
aflPect  the  practice  of  our  art. 

Would  it  not  be  deskable  to  employ  ourselves  in  improving 
many  of  those  modes  of  procedure  in  building  which  are  vicious, 
or  at  least  obsolete  ?  Are  there  not  difficult  problems  daily 
calling  for  solution  in  the  structure  of  our  houses,  the  solving  of 
wliich  is  of  far  more  importance  than  the  question  of  the 
preference  that  should  be  awarded  to  the  architectiu-al  styles  of 
the  period  of  Louis  xiv.,  of  Louis  xv.,  or  even  Louis  xvi.  ? 

The  method  of  building  in  the  case  of  dwellings  destined  to 
satisfy  the  requirements  of  modern  comfort,  and  of  that  demand 

VOL.  II.  T 


290  LECTURES  OX  ARCHITECTURE. 

for  economy  which  is  becoming  more  and  more  imperious,  is 
destined  to  undergo  important  modifications.  Iron  floors  of 
great  width  and  fitted  to  support  partitions  have  still  to  be 
invented  ;  the  methods  at  present  in  use  are  simply  barbarous. 
The  floormgs  are  intolerably  sonorous,  and  their  hold  in  the. 
waEs  is  clumsily  contrived.  Slight  partitions  of  gi-eat  breadth 
are  made  in  a  manner  equally  barbarous  with  the  floors.  Om^ 
systems  of  warming  and  ventilation  are  poor  in  conception,  and 
are  still  more  wi-etchedly  carried  out  ;  they  are  a  mere  after- 
thought, the  most  indispensable  prepaiutions  for  them  not 
having  been  made  during  the  building.  Ovir  method  of  closing 
windows  is  defective,  especially  for  wide  and  lofty  ones.  In  our 
interiors  architectural  ornamentation  is  put  up,  like  a  piece  of 
tapestry,  having  no  relation  to  the  stracture,  in  fact  conceaHng  it 
instead  of  conforming  to  it.  Iron,  which  is  such  a  useful  appU- 
ance,  affording  such  stabihty  and  security,  and  enabling  us  to 
economise  both  in  material  and  space, — is  had  recourse  to  only 
as  a  kind  of  subterftige  of  which  we  are  ashamed.  It  is  concealed 
or  disgviised  ;  it  is  placed  under  casings  whose  character  is  the 
very  opposite  of  those  properties  which  render  it  so  usefiil.  Wood 
for  joinery-work  is  beconring  scarcer  and  scarcer ;  it  can  no  longer 
be  procured  seasoned,  and  soon  it  will  fail  altogether.  Do  archi- 
tects pay  any  regard  to  this  fact  ?  On  the  contrary,  they  are 
more  than  ever  bent  on  adopting  combinations  of  joinery-work 
that  are  wasteful  of  wood,  as  if  it  existed  in  abundance, — to 
imitate  the  woodwork  of  a  period  durmg  which,  by  the  way,  it 
was  by  no  means  well  contrived.  Yet  now  woidd  be  the  oppor- 
tunity for  replacing  wood  by  iron,  in  many  circumstances.  But 
then  it  would  be  necessary  to  inquire  and  to  study ;  to  do 
somethmg  different  from  what  we  have  been  accustomed  to  do, 
and  from  what  other  people  are  doing ;  a  straggle  must  be 
undertaken  against  the  narrow  and  timid  spirit  of  our  clients, 
and  the  attachment  to  routme  among  buildei's.  We  prefer  to 
keep  to  the  old  rut. 

It  is  not  the  less  certain,  however,  that  ch-iving  in  the  ruts 
may  cause  an  upset. 

The  ignorance  and  the  infatuation  which  is  its  direct  con- 
sequence, that  have  prevailed  among  those  who  undertook  to 
guide  the  country,  and  to  whose  hands  the  country  had  com- 
mitted all  authority,  have  precipitated  us  into  a  series  of  miseries 
and  humiliations,  of  which  we  cannot  even  now  get  a  glimpse 
of  the  end.  Shall  our  noble  French  art,  which  was  so  well 
grounded  in  reason,  so  true  and  original,  which  bore  so  clearly 
the  imprint  of  our  manners  and  customs,  and  of  our  genius,  also 
perish  in  the  hands  of  incapables  1  Have  we  not  the  energy  to 
struggle  before  the  moment  of  ruin  comes,  against  the  tyranny 


LECTURE  XVII.  291 

of  impotent  routine  ?  Must  we  see  our  national  honour,  our 
influence  in  Europe,  our  military  status,  our  preponderance  in 
the  domam  of  intellect,  perish  inch  by  inch,  because  we  have 
not  the  sense  to  abandon  in  time  the  apathy  into  which  the 
long-established  habit  of  ceasmg  to  reason,  and  of  believing  that 
mere  feeling  or  sentiment  can  be  a  substitute  for  study  and 
observation,  has  plunged  us  ? 

We  have  a  sentimental  ai'chitecture,  as  we  have  had  a 
sentimental  public  policy  and  a  sentunental  war.  .  .  .  It  is  high 
time  we  thought  of  givmg  sober  reason,  practical  common 
sense,  to  the  requirements  of  the  times,  the  improvements 
furnished  by  manufacturing  skill,  and  economical  arrangements 
and  hygienic  and  sanitary  considerations  the  importance  they 
justly  claim. 

Most  of  the  arrangements  for  warming  our  dwellmgs,  and 
those  for  water-supply  and  gas-Hghting,  are  an  after-thought, — 
they  are  contemplated  only  when  the  house  is  already  built. 
Pipes  are  introduced  as  they  best  may  be  through  walls  and 
floorings.  The  fumistes  who  make  the  heat-flues  for  the 
caloriferes  pierce  holes  and  cut  grooves  without  any  great 
regard  for  the  stability  of  the  structure.  Then  come  the 
plumbers  and  gas-fitters,  who  manage  as  well  as  they  can.  So 
indifferent  are  we  to  the  ventilation  of  state  saloons  in  Pans, 
that  we  are  half  stifled  on  reception  days  amid  an  atmosphere 
vitiated  by  the  warm  air  from  the  caloriferes,  the  hghts,  the 
absorption  of  oxygen  and  the  formation  of  carbonic  acid  gas. 
Yet  it  is  of  much  greater  importance  to  consider  these  points 
than  to  paint  ceihngs  in  a  style  of  doubtful  taste,  and  to  set 
up  chimney-pieces  and  panels  copied  more  or  less  successfully 
from  those  of  Marie  Antoinette's  boudoks. 

Since  our  customs  oblige  us- to  crowd  into  drawing-rooms 
more  people  than  they  can  reasonably  hold,  it  shoifld  be  a  main 
consideration  with  us  to  give  them  air  to  breathe.  In  former 
times,  rooms  were  very  spacious,  not  closely  shut  up,  and  not 
brilliantly  lighted  ;  warming  by  heating  appai'atus  {caloriferes) 
had  not  been  adopted,  and  comparatively  few  persons  were 
received  at  the  same  time.  Our  forefathers  did  not  like  routs  ; 
we  have  conceived  a  passion  for  this  mode  of  passing  our 
evenings  ;  and  it  is  not  for  architects  to  efiect  a  change  in  sujch 
customs ;  on  the  contrary,  they  must  plan  their  arrangements 
to  suit  them. 

Hitherto  the  only  method  of  ventilation  adopted  ui  these 
reception-rooms  has  consisted  in  opening  the  windows,  or  part 
of  the  windows  {i.e.  swmg-casements), — a  capital  way  to  give 
people  inflammation  of  the  kmgs,  or  at  least  colds.  On  ladies' 
shoulders  and  men's  bald  heads  there  come  down  douches  of 


292  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

cold  air,  while  only  two  paces  off  one  is  plunged  in  a  mephitic 
vapour-bath  at  a  temperature  of  85°.  I  know  that  compensation 
is  made — or  at  least  sought — for  the  mischief  thus  caused  to 
the  constitution,  by  going  to  the  sea  or  to  watering-places ;  but 
would  it  not  be  more  natural  and  reasonable  to  prevent  siich 
mischief  altogether  ? 

Fashionable  Ufe,  then,  consists  in  poisoning  one's-self  during 
three  months  in  the  winter  for  the  sake  of  giving  one's-self  the 
satisfaction  of  going  to  take  an  antidote  in  the  summer.  It 
certainly  is  not  thus  that  a  race  physically  and  consequently 
morally  robust  can  be  produced. 

The  ventilation  of  reception-rooms  m  our  mansions  is  there- 
fore a  problem  of  serious  importance  ;  and  as  it  has  been  made  a 
subject  of  considerable  thought,  and  systems  greatly  differing 
from  each  other  have  been  suggested,  architects  should  give 
somewhat  greater  attention  to  it  than  they  have  hitherto  done. 
If,  after  having  studied  such  essential  matters,  they  still  have 
time  on  hand,  they  may  employ  it  in  reproducmg  such  or  such 
a  style  as  may  j^lease  them  or  their  clients. 

The  prime  condition  is  air  enough  to  render  breathing  easy  ; 
for  people  who  are  being  stifled  •  are  httle  alive  to  the  charms  of 
the  most  exquisite  wainscotmg  or  of  a  transparent  sky  painted 
on  the  ceiling ;  a  few  cubic  yards  of  fresh  an-  would  be  far  more 
to  their  taste. 

Our  rented  houses  are,  as  compared  with  the  mansions  we 
have  been  discussing,  more  in  advance  of  their  predecessors  of 
recent  centuries.  More  salubrious,  better  an-anged,  better  built, 
and  tolerably  appropriate  to  present  requirements,  they  exhibit 
the  residts  of  the  pressure  of  necessity.  Interest  is  a  powerful 
stimulus  ;  and  the  proprietor  of  a  well-planned  house  has  such 
an  advantage  over  him  who  has  an  inconvenient  one,  that  a 
maximum  of  suitabiEty  has  been  secured,  which,  if  it  does  not 
reach  perfection,  evidently  comes  near  to  it.  But  should  we 
decide  that  nothing  more  remains  to  be  tried  or  done  ?  Certainly 
not.  Before  going  further  in  the  discussion,  we  will  give  proofs 
of  a  fact,  which,  to  Paris  at  least,  is  of  the  gravest  importance, 
since  it  affects  one  aspect  of  its  prospei'ity. 

The  opening  of  new  thoroughfares  across  the  capital,  which 
took  place  on  such  an  enormous  scale  under  the  recent  Empire, 
excessively  stunulated  speculation  in  rented  houses.  The  specu- 
lators who  took  advantage  of  the  first  and  most  desirable 
openmgs,  such  as  the  Rue  de  RivoJi  and  the  Boulevard  de 
Sebastopol  realised  considerable  profits ;  but  in  those  central 
thoroughfares  which  traverse  populous  and  briskly  trading 
quarters,  however  dear  the  ground  might  be,  the  speculators 
might  boldly  proceed  to  build  houses  for  the  tenants  of  these 


LECTURE  XVII.  293 

districts  who  could  not  go  elsewhere,  and  who,  confident  of 
making  a  profit  by  then-  business,  conld  pay  comparatively  liigh 
rents,  and  who  were  inclined  to  leases  at  long  terms.  In  these 
thoroughfares  commerce  would  sometimes  invade  even  the  highest 
stories  ;  and  in  a  city  like  Paris  commerce  is  represented  by  that 
])art  of  the  community  which  can  pay  the  highest  rents,  since  a 
high  rent  is  one  of  the  essential  conditions  of  high  profits.  A 
dealer,  e.g.  gets  £200  per  month  by  paying  £960  rent  per  annum, 
whereas  he  would  only  get  £40  \)ev  month  by  paying  only  £240 
rent.  It  is  a  matter  of  position, — quarter  of  the  city, — com- 
mercial centrality.  But  when  the  opening  of  new  streets  was 
extended  to  points  of  the  city  which  did  not  present  these  com- 
mercial advantages, — when  new  boulevards  were  opened  in  the 
west  for  example, — the  conditions  the  specvUator  had  to  meet 
were  quite  different.  The  ground  was  no  cheaper,  and  the  cost  of 
building  was  at  any  rate  not  less  than  in  the  populous  quarters. 
Not  being  able  to  get  rents  for  the  ground-floor  at  a  very  high 
figure  as  compared  with  the  surface  occupied,  he  had  to  reckon 
on  letting  handsome  apartments  on  the  lower  stories.  At  first 
tliis  succeeded  very  well.  The  district  in  question  is  attractive, 
— near  to  the  Champs  Elysees,  the  Tuileries,  and  the  Bois  de 
Boulogne.  These  sumptuous  apartments  were  soon  let  and 
occupied.  But  rich  as  the  inhabitants  of  Paris  may  be,  there 
are  not  many  who  can  aflford  £960  a  year  for  a  suite  of  rooms, 
and  when  those  who  can  had  been  accommodated,  there  were 
no  tenants  for  those  which  specidation  was  still  continuing  to 
provide.  Besides,  many  people  thought  better  to  have  a  small 
mansion  of  their  own,  which,  including  the  site,  would  cost 
£20,000,  than  to  pay  the  interest  of  that  sum  without  possessmg 
the  capital.  And  it  was  at  this  date  that  a  great  number  of 
small  mansions  were  built  in  the  outskirts  of  Paris ;  and  the 
districts  formerly  not  built  on,  at  Chaillot,  la  Muette,  Neuilly, 
Passy,  Auteuil,  etc.,  occupied.  The  possession  of  a  mansion  or 
a  viUa  of  their  own  has  thiis  become  gradually  more  habitual 
with  men  of  moderate  fortune.  All  who  had  capital  at  their 
disposal  preferred  investing  it  in  a  house  of  their  own  rather 
than  spending  the  interest  in  the  rents  of  a  suite  of  apartments 
in  a  hired  house. 

Thus,  the  more  houses  wei'e  built  by  speculators  for  which 
they  must  have  high  rents, — since  the  site  and  the  building  cost 
them  at  least  on  an  average  £50  per  yard, — the  fewer  tenants 
they  found  inclined  to  occupy  these  dwelhngs ;  first,  because  all 
who  could  afford  from  £240  to  £960  per  annum  rent  w^ere 
already  accommodated  ;  secondly,  because  many,  considering  the 
sums  demanded  for  rent,  preferred  to  be  their  own  landlords, — 
that  is,  to  invest  money  in  buUding  a  dwelling  which  would 


294  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

continue  to  belong  to  them,  and  for  wliich  they  could  at  any 
tune  reahse  what  they  paid  for  it. 

The  situation  of  our  country,  and  of  Paris  in  particular,  since 
the  disastrous  war  of  1870-71,  is  not  such  as  to  improve  the 
position  of  speculators  in  rented  houses  m  aristocratic  quarters. 
Henceforth  we  may  consider  property  of  this  kind  as  likely  to 
undei'go  considerable  depreciation,  and  we  can  scarcely  foresee 
what  will  become  of  the  numerous  buildings  which  are  unoccu- 
pied, or  are  let  eventually  to  foreigners  in  Paris  and  owe  other 
lai-ge  cities. 

These  considerations  are  pertinent  to  our  subject,  and  they 
bring  us  to  tliis  conclusion, — that  Parisian  customs  in  regard  to 
the  class  of  habitations  occupied  are  being  modified,  and  that 
they  are  probably  tending  to  be  modified  more  and  more  as 
time  advances. 

Individuals  and  famihes  will  more  and  more  wish  to  isolate 
themselves.  Except  in  commercial  quarters, — in  business 
centres, — large  rented  houses  will  be  no  more  in  demand, 
because  tenants  will  become  fewer  and  fewei'.  He  who  has 
formed  the  habit  of  living  iii  a  house  of  his  own,  with  no  rent 
to  pay  at  the  quarter's  end,  and  without  having  to  fear  a  notice 
to  quit  or  a  rise  in  the  rent,  without  having  to  put  up  with 
troublesome  neighboiu-s,  or  a  surly  porter  (as  is  sometimes  the 
case),  wUl  be  imwiUing  to  re-enter  a  lured  dweUing.  He  will 
prefer  to  go  beyond  the  limits  of  Paris,  and  hve  in  one  of  the 
towns  in  the  environs,  though  business  requires  hun  to  come 
into  the  capital  every  day. 

Thus  the  abuses  that  have  been  caused  by  the  opening  of 
thoroughfares  destined  to  render  Paris  more  habitable,  healthy, 
and  attractive,  will  have  as  their  result  a  modification  m  Parisian 
habits,  and  will  bring  it  about  that  some  quarters  of  the  city, 
which  have  been  recently  budt  at  great  expense,  wUl  remam 
uninhabited,  or  at  least  that  they  will  be  only  occasionally 
occupied.  Consequently  those  quarters  in  wliich  there  are  still 
many  sites  on  wliich  there  are  no  buildings  will  suffer  a  consider- 
able depreciation  of  the  factitious  value  they  had  acquked ;  and 
when  theu'  cost  is  reduced  low  enough  to  be  within  reach  of 
moderate  fortunes,  it  wUl  not  be  stone  houses  five  stories  high 
that  will  be  built  there,  but  small  dwellings  suflicient  for  one 
or  two  families. 

The  future  we  are  contemplating  seems  not  very  distant, 
unless  tliis  great  city  sufiers  a  decluie.  It  is  a  desirable  con- 
summation ;  our  morals  will  be  improved  by  it,  and  Parisian  life 
will  be  the  lietter  for  it.  A  model — a  perfect  social  state  would 
be  one  in  which  the  great  majority  of  its  members  were  their 
own  landlords,  and  had  an  attachment  to  a  home  of  theu*  own  ; 


LECTURE  XVII.  295 

wliich  would  result  in  warmer  family  affections,  a  disposition  to 
work,  a  more  judicious  selection  of  friends,  and  the  abandonment 
of  vain  or  unwholesome  distractions. 

We  have  here  then  a  new  and  very  desnable  programme, 
which  architects  will  probably  be  soon  called  on  to  satisfy. 
Attempts  have  aheady  been  made  in  this  dhection  ;  some  charm- 
ing houses  of  simple  and  modest  appearance  might  be  refen-ed 
to,  which,  built  in  remote  quarters  to  the  west  of  Paris,  are 
inhabited  by  persons  of  moderate  fortune, — quiet  families  who 
have  bid  a  long  farewell  to  theatres  and  routs,  and  are  occupied 
\ni\\  the  education  of  their  children ;  where  regidar  work 
maintains  tranquillity  and  good-humour.  But  tliis  new  pro- 
gramme has  still  to  be  developed. 

Such  houses  cannot  be  mansions  in  miniature ;  they  will  have 
to  be  modelled  according  to  the  habits  referred  to,  which  are  not 
yet  fidly  formed,  but  will  soon  be  so— at  least  such  is  our  hope. 
For  it  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  our  middle  classes,  which  are 
the  vital  force  of  modern  society,  have  not  in  France  any  fashions 
or  customs  of  their  own.  They  are  not  the  bourgeoisie  of  former 
times  ;  they  have  striven  latterly  to  imitate  to  the  best  of  their 
abihty  the  external  features  of  an  aristocracy  of  wealth,  and 
have  sacrificed  to  vanity  rather  than  considered  the  comfort  of 
their  homes ;  we  see  a  good  many  small  dwellmgs  m  quarters 
far  removed  from  the  west  end  of  Paris,  whose  plans  are  a  cojiy 
in  miniature  of  magnificent  mansions. 

Nothing  of  the  kmd  is  to  be  found  in  England  or  Gemaany, 
where  houses  for  families  whose  habits  are  unpretentious  m 
consequence  of  the  modest  extent  of  then-  mcomes  are  really 
adapted  to  the  social  j^osition  of  their  owaiers.  Of  course 
architects  cannot  bring  considerations  of  a  moral  order  to  bear 
on  the  case  when  a  client  comes  and  asks  them  to  build  a 
dwelling  for  his  own  use  ;  yet  on  many  occasions  their  judgment 
and  sensible  representations  would  exercise  a  certain  influence 
over  such  clients.  Without  setting  up  for  moral  reformers,  wliich 
woidd  be  ridiciUous  Ln  the  extreme,  an  architect  may  present 
the  results  of  his  observations  on  such  or  such  arrangements  m  an 
attractive  manner ;  but  he  must  have  such  observations  stored  up 
in  his  mind,  he  must  have  disci'etion  ond  intelligence  enough  to 
bring  them  forward  opportunely,  and  he  must  regard  himself 
not  as  a  submissive  instrument  ready  to  yield  to  all  the  caprices 
of  his  client,  but  as  a  comisellor  and  guide  who  should  prevent 
him  from  falling  into  errors  prejudicial  to  his  own  interests. 
Architects  have  unfortunately  long  entertained  a  different 
conception  of  the  part  they  should  play  ;  and  we  cannot  wonder 
at  this,  while  examples  of  independence  and  dignity  of  character 
were  not  to  be  looked  for  m  high  quarters, — far  from  it.     There 


296  LECTURED  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

is  no  hope  in  fact  of  our  being  able  to  change  such  habits  among 
those  with  whom  they  ai-e  inveterate.  Servitude  leaves  an 
indehble  trace  in  men's  minds ;  it  is  therefore  to  the  generation 
that  is  now  rising, — to  our  yovith — that  these  observations  are 
addressed.  It  is  for  them  to  revive  correctness  of  judgment  and 
lirmness  of  character, — that  true  function  of  the  architect  which 
consists  in  enlightening  his  clients,  not  in  following  their  most 
trifling  caprices. 


LECTURE    XVIIL 

DOMESTIC   ARCHITECTURE — continued. 

THE  change  that  is  taking  place  in  the  habits  of  large  cities, 
and  especially  in  Paris,  in  consequence  of  the  excessive 
amount  of  rents  and  the  more  and  more  decided  inclination  of 
the  inhabitants  for  houses  of  their  own,  should  be  an  inducement 
to  architects  to  seek  the  most  appropriate  means  for  satisfying 
that  inclination. 

Economy  in  the  method  of  building  is  evidently  one  of  the 
most  essential  conditions  dictated  by  this  novel  programme. 
And  we  are  accustomed  in  France  generally  to  build  in  a  too 
expensive  fashion.  The  di\'ision  of  inherited  patrimonial  estates 
and  the  rapid  change  of  customs,  have  brought  it  about  that  private 
houses  are  not  required  to  be  built  in  a  way  that  will  enable 
them  to  last  for  many  centuries.  A  hundred  years  is  a  compara- 
tively long  period  of  duration  ;  for  -witliin  the  limits  of  a  century 
a  dwelling-house  is  destined  to  change  occupants  five  or  six 
times,  and  at  the  end  of  this  period  the  mternal  arrangements 
can  scarcely  suit  new  generations  without  midergoing  important 
modifications,  which  are  often  equivalent  to  entii-e  reconstruction. 

The  object  architects  should  have  in  view  is  to  build  houses 
at  rentals  of  from  £160  to  ,£480  per  annimi,  representmg  a 
capital  of  £'3200  to  £9600.  Con.sidering  the  cost  of  sites  in  our 
large  towns,  the  problem  is  a  difficult  one.  It  is  therefore  not 
in  the  populous  and  trading  quarters  that  such  buildings  can  be 
erected,  but  on  the  outskirts  of  our  great  cities.  When  the  ill- 
starred  ramparts  of  Paris  shall  be  condemned  to  demoUtion, — a 
day  not  far  distant  we  hope, — there  will  be  found  sites  well 
adapted  for  this  most  desirable  pm-pose,  because  they  must  be 
sold  for  moderate  amounts.  Something  like  240  square  yards 
would  be  sufiicient  for  the  site  of  a  house  of  moderate  dimensions 
for  one  family,  with  a  court  or  small  garden  ;  and  if  the  ground 
costs  £1,  13s.  4d.  per  yard,  the  capital  invested  in  buying  the 
site  will  be  only  £400.  And  for  £2400  or  £2800  at  most,  a  house 
suitable  for  the  accommodation  of  a  large  family  may  be  built. 
In  fact,  120  square  yards  of  buildmg  at  £20  per  yard,  gives 
£2400  ;  and  for  the  sum  of  £20  per  square  yard  it  would  not  be 
difiicult  to  build  a  house  with  cellars,  ground-floor,  two  stories 


298  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

below  the  roofing  and  one  in  it,  if  we  confine  ourselves  within 
the  limits  of  a  reasonable  economy  and  do  not  sacrifice  to  vanity. 

Yet  there  are  few  families  that  can  spare  from  £120  to  £1G0 
a  year  in  rent,  or  have  a  capital  of  £2000  or  £3000  to  ajiply  to 
building  purposes.  Recourse  must  therefore  be  had  in  theii'  case 
to  speculative  builders  who,  on  sufficiently  extensive  sites,  erect 
buildings  that  could  be  divided,  and  each  section  of  which,  from 
roof  to  floor,  would  be  allotted  to  a  single  family,  paying  for  it 
either  in  a  single  sum  or  by  redemption  within  a  fixed  term.  In 
London  tliis  meth(5d  is  adopted,  on  the  principle  of  long  leases  ; 
i.e.  the  ground  on  which  houses  are  built  is  granted  on  a 
ninety-nine  years'  lease,  for  a  single  payment  or  on  consideration 
of  a  ground-rent.  We  have  not  adopted  these  usages,  which  is 
so  much  the  more  to  be  wondered  at,  as  France  is  that  country 
of  Eui'ope  in  which  fortunes  as  well  as  institutions  are  least 
secure.  We  like  j^erpetuity  in  theory  at  least,  but  practically 
we  have  no  faith  in  it.  Among  us,  when  the  father  of  a  family 
has  secured  a  dwelling  for  his  children  and  grandchildren  that 
shall  be  theirs  for  a  hundi'ed  years,  he  may  rest  content.  Taking 
this  into  consideration,  something  might  be  attempted  on  the 
ground  which  wdl  probably  be  at  our  disposal  on  the  Ime  of  the 
fortifications  of  Paris,  and  those  which,  in  considerable  quantity, 
have  not  been  encroached  on  by  building  since  the  annexation  of 
the  outlying  districts. 

Intelligent  observers  have  suggested,  and  with  some  plausi- 
bility, that  the  aspect  of  dwellings  exerts  an  influence  on  the 
morals  of  the  inmates.  If  this  observation  is  just,  it  must  be 
confessed  that  nothing  is  more  likely  to  demoralise  a  people  than 
those  great  rented  houses  in  which  the  personality  of  the 
individual  is  lost, — where  the  love  of  hearth  and  home  is 
scarcely  possible,  and  where  consequently  the  advantages  that 
flow  from  it  are  absent.  Each  tenant  of  these  houses,  uniform 
in  aspect  and  in  their  successive  stories,  is  a  temporary  visitor, 
who  cannot  become  attached  to  these  walls  in  which  he  will  live 
only  a  few  months  or  years,  which  will  have  seen  other  occupants 
before  him  and  will  see  others  after  him.  How  could  one  attach 
one's-self  to  walls  which  may  be  tenanted  by  any  one — to  these 
interiors  which  bear  no  traces  of  the  taste  of  the  occupant  ?  A 
private  house,  on  the  contrary,  however  modest  its  pretensions, 
always  bears  the  impress  of  the  habits  of  the  owner.  Though, 
as  in  London,  such  houses  may  present  a  uniform  aspect  outside, 
their  internal  arrangements  are  modified  according  to  the 
individual  tastes  and  habits  of  those  who  possess  them  and 
dwell  in  them.  And  it  is  a  characteristic  of  human  nature  to 
become  attached  to  objects  which  reflect  something  of  one's 
personality.     People    always    conceive   an    afiection    for   what 


LECTURE  XVIII.  299 

they  have  made  for  themselves ;  and  such  affection,  when  it 
is  attached  to  heartli  and  home,  is  a  salutary  one.  We  cannot, 
therefore,  I  think,  too  warmly  encourage  the  tendency  of  a 
considerable  portion  of  the  public  to  relmquish  houses  let  out  in 
flats  for  private  houses ;  and  to  a  certain  degree  architects  have 
the  opportunity  of  aiding  this  change  in  our  habits  by  studying 
the  most  economical  means  of  construction,  such  as  will  enable 
persons  of  moderate  fortune  to  live  in  houses  of  their  own. 

A  considerable  number  of  manufacturers  in  France  have  built 
dwellings  for  the  workmen  they  employ.  These  dwellings, 
sejiarated  into  allotments,  may  become  the  property  of  the 
workmen  by  redemption.  The  result  is  that  habits  of  regidarity, 
order,  and  honesty  are  rapidly  diffused  in  colonies  of  this  kind ; 
and  rarely  do  these  industrial  comraimities  give  themselves  up 
to  the  excesses  which  are  so  frequently  met  with  in  manufactur- 
ing districts  where  this  system  has  not  been  adopted. 

And  that  which  is  morally  commendable  in  this  system  for 
the  working  classes  is  equally  desirable  for  those  classes  whose 
education  or  means,  or  the  character  of  their  occupations,  is  of  a 
higher  grade. 

The  attaclmient  to  hearth  and  home  produces  the  love  of 
diligent  work,  order,  and  a  wise  economy.  We  should  there- 
fore endeavour  to  promote  that  attachment,  to  render  it 
possible  for  as  large  a  number  as  jjossible,  and  do  our  utmost 
to  solve  the  problem  involved  in  its  furtherance.  And  architects 
could  not  engage  in  a  more  honourable  endeavour.  It  is  one  of 
gTeater  difficulty  in  France  than  in  England  or  Germany,  because 
we  have  been  long  accustomed  to  the  display  of  a  false  luxiuy, 
and  many  worthy  people  do  not  consider  themselves  respectably 
lodged — crowding  bemg  no  consideration  with  them — except 
within  stone  waUs  decorated  with  gewgaws,  and  unless  the  Httle 
parlour  they  occupy  is  covered  with  gilding. 

Our  houses  in  flats  do  not  permit  of  making  special  arrange- 
ments, since  the  rooms  of  which  they  consist  must  suit  all  persons 
equally, — that  is,  nobody  in  particular.  Consequently  the  a^aart- 
ments  they  contam  are  invariably  an  antechamber,  a  drawmg- 
room,  a  dining-room,  a  kitchen  and  pantry,  and  bed-rooms 
with  or  without  dressing-rooms.  Studies  or  work-rooms  are 
never  thought  of  All  these  habitations  seem  destined  for 
persons  who  pass  their  day  away  from  home  in  bureaux  or 
offices  whose  business  requires  their  whole  time.  If  a  man 
of  business,  a  barrister,  a  medical  man,  a  lawyer,  a  banker,  an 
architect,  a  civil  engineer,  or  an  artificer,  takes  one  of  these 
suites  of  apartments,  he  is  obliged  to  turn  one  or  several  of  the 
rooms  we  have  just  mentioned  into  the  study  or  consultation 
room    or    the    workshop    with    the    appurtenances    which    his 


300  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

occupations  requLre.  There  is  no  arrangement  for  these  offices, 
and  they  generally  find  their  place  in  the  very  midst  of  the 
rooms  assigned  to  the  family.  Thence  aiise  daily  annoyances 
and  inconveniences  which  often  render  home  life  intolerable  ; 
and  thus  the  heads  of  families  make  it  the  chief  object  of  their 
life  to  escape  from  these  inconveniences  and  annoyances  as  often 
as  possible.  If  such  dwellings  were  arranged  according  to  the 
requirements  of  the  inmates,  they  would  find  it  more  agreeable 
to  stay  at  home.  But  such  special  arrangements  can  only  be 
made  in  buildings  adapted  to  this  object,  and  houses  in  flats,  as 
we  have  described  them,  cannot  lend  themselves  to  any  such 
special  arrangements. 

If  a  person  who  was  entirely  unacquainted  with,  our  customs 
were  introduced  to  such  houses,  he  would  very  naturally  inquu-e 
where  and  when  the  inmates  of  these  habitations  worked.  And 
in  fact  no  pro\'ision  is  made  in  these  dwellings  for  the  exigencies 
of  work,  notwithstandrng  that  for  most  persons  they  are  in  some 
form  or  other  prime  considerations. 

The  uniformity  and  regularity  of  our  new  thoroughfares  have 
occasioned  a  uniformity  in  the  houses,  and  consequently  a  uni- 
formity in  the  interior  arrangements ;  and  when  it  is  necessary 
to  find  a  habitation  in  which  a  study  or  office-room  can  be 
contrived,  it  is  still  only  in  the  older  houses  that  we  have  a 
chance  of  getting  what  we  require. 

Much  has  been  done  recently  for  our  citizens  in  their 
capacity  of  promenaders  and  business  men,  but  a  home  has  been 
rendered  almost  impossible  to  them.  In  theu"  dwellings  they 
are  micomfortably  crowded,  and  not  being  able  to  devote  them- 
selves to  any  occupation,  they  become  disgusted  with  home 
life,  and  pass  the  time  which  is  not  absorbed  by  busmess  in 
company  or  at  the  cafe. 

By  rendering  separate  houses  jjossible  for  persons  of  moderate 
fortunes,  architects  would  solve  one  of  the  questions  suggested 
by  the  necessities  of  the  time,  which  are  continually  raising 
questions  whose  gravity  is  more  and  more  aj^parent  to  thinkmg 
minds,  but  which  official  teaching  seems  to  look  on  with  increas- 
ing contempt. 

Though  complymg  with  the  municipal  regulations  for  not  pro- 
jecting beyond  the  line  (regulations  concerning  which  moreover 
we  shall  have  a  good  deal  to  say), — which  is  possible  in  the  case  of 
a  private  house,  since  it  may  be  built  some  distance  in  rear  of  the 
thoroughfare, — the  architect  can  avail  himself  of  features  very 
advantageoixs  to  the  interior  accommodation,  such  as  corbellings, 
overhanging  roofs,  and  projections.  I  am  aware  that  arrange- 
ments of  this  kind  are  not  generally  thought  consistent  with 
strict  economy ;  but  whatever  truth  there  may  be  in  this  idea 


LECTURE  XV 111. 


301 


it  arises  from  the  faultiness  of  the  system  of  building  generally- 
adopted, — a  system  which,  by  its  veiy  principle,  is  a  too  costly 
one,  as  it  proposes  to  give  buildings  a  durability  which  is  by 
no  means  in  keeping  with  our  habits  and  the  social  conditions 
under  which  we  live. 

1 


Fit-;.  1. — Design  for  a  French  Private  Street  House. — Ground-plan. 

The  judicious  use  of  iron,  cast  and  wi-ought,  would  not 
unfrequently  enable  us  to  buUd  very  economically,  and  with  an 
assured  prospect  of  stability  for  a  certain  period, — a  hundred 
years,  e.g.,  which  is  quite  sufficient. 

We  remarked  above  that  it  is  possible  to  buUd  a  house  in 


140 

0 

0 

.      £1880 
er 

400 

0 
0 

0 
0 

.      £2280 

0 

0 

302  LECTURES  ON  A  RCHITECTURE. 

Paris  sufficient  to  accommodate  a  numerous  family  for  £3200 
or  less,  the  cost  of  site  included.  Let  us  examine  the  matter 
in  detail.  Let  figure  1  represent  a  site  80  feet  deep  by  27 
broad,  i.e.  240  square  yards.  The  house  occupies  a  space  of 
100  square  yards,  and  there  will  be  a  lean-to  for  the  kitchen, 
covering  18  square  yards. 

The  house  will  consist  of  a  basement,  a  ground-floor,  a  first 
and  second  story,  and  a  story  in  the  roofing.  Such  a  building- 
designed  in  the  way  we  are  going  to  show  will  cost  in  Paris 
£16,  16s.  per  square  yard  at  most,  .  .  .  £1680  0  0 
The  kitchen  lean-to,  .         .  .  .         .  GO     0     0 

The  enclosure  walls,  palisades,  area  wall  in  front, 
flights  of  steps,  garden,  etc., 

Total, 
Supposing   the  ground  to  cost  £1,   13s.  4d. 
square  yard, — 240  square  yards, 

Total, 

Which  at  5  per  cent.,  gives  a  rent  of  £114. 

On  the  ground-floor  this  house  (figure  1)  contains — a  vesti- 
bule A,  an  antechamber  B,  with  a  stair  leading  to  the  ujjper 
stories,  and  a  passage  h  leading  to  the  small  garden  b,  and 
kitchen  c ;  a  drawing-room  s,  and  a  dining-room  with  panti-y 
o.  Between  the  public  thoroughfare  and  the  house  is  a  sunk 
area  F,  with  steps  for  taking  in  provisions,  removing  rubbish, 
etc.  On  the  first  story  (figure  2),  we  have  an  office-room  with 
library  t  and  a  large  bed-room  G,  with  the  dressing-room  g.  The 
second  story  contains  two  large  bedrooms  vAth.  dressing-rooms. 
In  the  roofing  are  two  bedrooms  for  the  family,  two  small  rooins 
for  servants,  and  a  linen-room.  In  the  basement  story,  provision 
cellars,  a  warmiiig  apparatus  {calorifere),  and  a  bath-room  are 
lighted  from  the  area  in  front.  It  need  not  be  observed  that  tliere 
is  a  stau-  down  to  the  basement,  below  the  upper  stair.  The 
front  wall  on  the  entrance  side  is  built  of  stone  and  brick,  as 
we  shall  show,  and  is  only  one  foot  two  inches  thick  at  the  piers. 
Those  overlooking  the  garden  are  of  stone  and  brick,  and  at  some 
pomts  are  only  nine  inches  thick,  fig.  2.    A  partition^  of  iron  fram- 

'  One  of  the  most  remarkable  examples  of  the  influence  of  administrative  routine 
among  us  is  presented  in  the  regulations  respecting  the  thickness  of  outside  walls  of 
houses  in  Paris.  Formerly  wheu  walls  were  generally  built  of  rubble-work,  the  thickness 
was  fixed  at  nearly  20  inches  ;  the  reason  being  that  it  is  not  possible  to  build  a  sub- 
stantial wall  of  rubble-work  of  any  height  if  the  tliickuess  is  less,  i.e.  if  it  is  not  con- 
structed with  a  double  rank  of  stones.  Now  as  these  stones,  to  form  a  substantial  wall, 
must  have  from  eight  inches  to  a  foot  of  tail,  overlapping  they  would  give  about  20  inches. 
When  it  was  determined  that  there  should  be  walls  of  free-stone  facing  the  thoroughfares, 
the  same  figure,  20  inches,  was  ])rescribed,  though  a  stone  wall  16  inches  thick  is  at  least 
as  substantial  as  one  in  rubble- work  of  20.  But  the  most  absurd  regulation  of  all  is  that 
the  requirement  in  the  case  of  stone  was  not  insisted  on  for  bricks,  and  while  no  stone  wall 
is  allowed  less  ttian  20  inches  thick,  a  brick  wall  of  nine  inches  is  tolerated.  In  our  regula- 
tions for  street  building  even  more  ridiculous  anomalies  might  be  cited. 


LECTURE  XV I II. 


SOS 


ing  filled  in  with  brick  separates  the  vestibule  from  the  large 
rooms,  and  bears  the  floorings  that  rest  on  the  party  walls.  The 
flooring  joists  are  of  Lron  and  the  roofing  of  wood. 

But  we  wiU  give  a  detailed  explanation  of  the  method  of 
construction  suggested,  and  wliich,  though  the  materials  are 
comparatively  costly,  allows  us  to  build  at  a  considerably  less 
expense  than  if  we  adopted  the  usual  methods.  Plate  XXXIV. 
gives  the  elevation  of  such  a  house  facing  the  street,  and  the 
section  along  the  front  wall ;  Plate  XXXV.  the  elevation  on 
the  garden,  and  the  section  along  the  side  wall.  It  will  be 
observed  that  the  lower  slope  of  the  roof  overhangs  the  outer 


-Design  for  n  French  Private  Street  Ilouse—fiist-floor  plan. 


walls,  and  is  supported  by  means  of  a  system  of  wood  brackets 
which  form  a  projecting  cornice,  and  which  perfectly  shelter 
the  walls.  This  system  has  also  the  advantage  of  giving  a 
square  stoiy  in  the  roofing,  whose  surface  is  equal  to  that  of  the 
lower  stories. 

I  have  mentioned  iron  floorings  and  partitions.  The  price  of 
iron  floorbigs  in  Paris  is  now  very  nearly  the  same  as  that  of 
wooden  ones  ;  and  certain  improvements  which  the  manufacture 


304  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

of  iron  and  the  attentive  study  of  architects  promise  to  in- 
troduce, would  still  further  diminish  the  price.  We  may 
expect  the  same  reduction  in  u-on-framed  partitioning ;  and  this 
would  cost  less  than  wooden  studding/  for  while  floors  must 
present  over  then-  whole  surface  an  equal  resistance  to  a  variable 
load,  it  is  not  the  same  with  wood  or  iron-framed  partitions  ;  the 
weights  they  have  directly  to  sustain  are  invariable,  and  con- 
sequently the  resisting  points  are  appreciable  beforehand,  and 
these  alone  will  have  to  be  strongly  constructed  ;  all  other 
parts  consist  merely  of  filling-in,  and  this  can  be  done  in  the 
most  economical  manner. 

Many  other  questions  relatmg  to  the  structure  of  our  houses 
deserve  study,  if  our  architects  woiild  but  give  them  serious 
attention,  and  not  adhere  to  obsolete  methods.  Wooden  stairs 
are  also  destined  to  make  way  for  iron  ones,  which  are  already 
manufactured  in  the  most  economical  way,  and  which  are  not 
liable  to  be  bm-ned  nor  to  settle  in  consequence  of  the  drying 
of  the  timbers,  as  often  ha25pens  to  our  modern  stairs  made  as 
they  are  with  unseasoned  wood, — and  none  other  is  now  to  be 
obtained.  Is  there,  in  fact,  anything  more  defective  in  principle 
than  those  notched  circular  stairstrings  which  are  held  together 
by  oblique  bolts  and  hoop-iron,  in  contravention  of  the  nature 
of  the  wood  and  its  properties,  as  the  bolts  in  question  hold 
these  cremailleres  or  string  boards  in  the  du-ection  of  the  grain, 
and  so  tend  to  split  the  wood  ? 

Outside  window-blind  arrangements  deserve  special  attention, 
and  in  houses  for  single  families  they  are  stUl  more  important 
than  can  be  the  case  in  those  built  in  flats.  Outside  window- 
blinds  in  wood  (pers/en?ies),  which  are  so  inconvenient  and 
fragile,  requiring  frequent  repau's  and  jjroducing  such  an  un- 
sightly effect  on  fronts,  have  had  their  day.  For  some  years 
sheet-iron  persiennes,  folding  back  in  leaves  in  the  tliickness 
of  the  wurdow-jambs  have  been  adopted  ;  but  unless  the  walls 
are  thick,  the  space  occupied  by  these  leaves  obliges  us  to  set 
back  the  window  frames  almost  flush  with  the  inside  of  the 
walls,  which  is  very  inconvenient,  leaving  no  room  for  curtains ; 
or  there  has  been  a  return  to  Venetian  blinds  with  iron  laths 
instead  of  wooden  ones  ;  but  Venetian  blinds  do  not  make  a 
firm  screen.  But  ingenuity  has  already  invented  Venetian 
blinds  which  can  be  made  rigid  by  a  very  simple  arrangement.^ 
Their  laths  are  rolled  on  a  cylinder  at  the  top  of  the  window- 
bay.     Why  should    not  a  place    for  such   rollers    be    provided 

'  See  a  work  on  this  subject  by  M.  Liger,  architect :  Dictionnaire  liistorique  et  pra- 
tique de  la  roirie  ile  la  police  municipale,  dc,  la  construction  et  de  la  contiguiU,  "  Pans  de  boii 
et  pans  defer,"  1S67. 

2  At  the  Paris  Exhibition  of  1867,  English  exhibitors  produced  blinds  of  this  kind,  so 
managed  that  when  let  down  they  had  the  rigidity  of  a  homogeneous  plate  of  metal. 


LECTURE  XV TIT.  305 

ill  the  construction  ?  Ami  as  i-egavds  windows  on  the  ground 
floor,  which  ouglit  to  be  well  protected  in  houses  for  single 
families,  why  should  not  a  system  of  closing  he  adopted 
similar  to  that  in  use  for  shop-fronts  ?  In  this  case,  again, 
we  have  an  example  of  hybiid  arrangements,  which  liave  the 
inconvenience  of  attempting  to  reconcile  ancient  forms  witli 
habits  and  customs  with  which  they  no  longer  accord.  That 
eternal  window  of  the  Roman  palaces,  which  is  reproduced  in 
our  fronts  to  satiety,  no  more  corresponds  with  the  requirements 
of  the  modern  house  window,  than  the  great  chimney-piece  with 
its  wide  fireplace  and  high  mantel,  with  our  present  modes  for 
heatmg.  The  modern  window  ought  to  be  a  complete  arrange- 
ment, comprising  the  glazed  part,  the  provisions  for  security  or 
for  protection  against  the  sun,  and  to  be  duly  provided  for  in  an 
opening  in  the  outer  wall,  properly  constructed  to  receive  it,  just 
as  we  now  arrange  our  chimney-pieces  to  receive  the  fire- 
grate. When  the  arrangements  for  window  pi'otection  are 
contrived  as  they  ought  to  be,  so  as  exactly  to  fulfil  their  ])\\v- 
pose,  the  openings  will  be  disposed  accordingly  ;  but  to  proceed 
in  an  inverse  fashion  is  violating  common  sense  ;  it  is  setting  our- 
selves an  insoluble  problem.  Let  us  then  begin  by  constructing 
a  proper  arrangement  for  closing  and  screening  our  windows 
without  troubling  ourselves  as  to  whether  it  can  find  a  place  in 
a  window-case  copied  from  a  Roman  })alace  of  the  sixteenth 
century. 

Even  down  to  the  seventeenth  centiuy  windows  were  very 
narrow,  or  if  wide,  they  were  divided  by  a  fixed  mulhon.  There 
was  but  one  leaf  with  shutters  inside  for  each  compartment ;  this 
was  a  reasonable  plan  ;  the  wooden  casement  was  only  a  glazed 
frame  set  into  rebate  whose  uprights  carried  their  shutters.  But 
when,  at  the  close  of  the  sixteenth  centiuy,  builders  began  to  in- 
troduce in  the  front  walls  of  liouses  and  palaces  wide  and  lofty 
window  openings  without  fixed  muUions,  they  adopted  two-lea\"ed 
casements,  with  a  shutter  arrangement  attached  to  the  middle. 
Then  they  applied  shutters  on  the  inside  independent  of  the 
glazed  frames  ;  then,  for  protection  against  the  sun's  rays  outside, 
Venetian  blinds  copied  from  Spanish  and  Italian  houses ;  and 
lastly,  outside  wmdow-blinds  projecting  on  the  exterior.  The 
window-cases  in  use  by  no  means  harmonised  with  this  system 
of  bhnds  ;  but  it  did  not  occur  to  any  architect  to  modify  the 
classic  form  in  ada])tation  to  the  new  method  of  blinds.  When 
the  masonry  was  finished,  holes  were  pierced  in  the  window-cases 
to  suspend  the  sun-blinds,  and  the  frames  of  the  casements 
were  attached  as  well  as  they  could  be  with  stay-nails.  This 
was  a  barbarous  method,  the  result  of  a  series  of  mere  trials  and 
expedients;  study  and  deduction  have  no  part  in  it.  The 
VOL.  n.  u 


30G  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

wiiulow-opening  ought  to  be  constructed  with  a  view  to  tlio 
system  of  bhnds.  It  is  time  that  we  tried  to  invent  i-easonable 
methods  and  ceased  to  have  recourse  to  mere  expedients.  We 
should  make  it  our  chief  endeavour  to  proceed  methodically  and 
logically,  if  we  would  inaugurate  an  architecture  proper  to  our 
times.  We  must  endeavour  to  enfranchise  our  minds  from  those 
traditional  forms  which  cannot  be  reconciled  with  our  require- 
ments. If  we  cannot  at  once  discover  forms  that  shall  satisfy 
the  eye,  let  us  rest  assured  that  when  practical  requirements 
have  been  properly  satisfied,  a  pleasing  form  will  natm-ally  follow. 

I  was  saying  that  for  windows  on  the  ground-floor  a  system 
of  metal-plate  blinds  similar  to  those  used  in  our  shops  would 
be,  to  meet  the  present  requirements  of  the  case,  at  least  very 
satisfactory,  inasmuch  as  they  would  be  secure,  and  would  not 
oblige  us  to  open  the  windows  to  close  the  blhids.  But  to  make 
this  system  complete,  the  glazed  part  and  the  protecting  screen 
must  be  combmed,  and  capable  of  being  placed  m  the  opening- 
all  in  a  piece,  and  even  during  the  building,  if  thought  desirable. 
Our  modern  appliances  can  furnish  all  the  iron-work  required, 
and  if  a  few"  architects  began  to  adopt  a  tolerably  complete 
system,  manufactm-ers  would  soon  make  arrangements  for  sup- 
plying contractors  at  moderate  prices. 

We  regard  it  as  certain  that  wooden  windows,  like  wooden 
outside  bhnds,  have  had  their  day,  and  must  be  relinquished  ; 
that  they  must  be  replaced  by  iron,  and  that  these  after 
some  trials  will  be  produced  at  the  same  cost  as  those  of  wood,' 
bemg,  it  may  be  remarked,  very  supeiior  to  their  rivals  in  dura- 
bility and  strength,  and  admitting  more  light.  The  frame  of  the 
casement  which  would  also  serve  as  the  frame  for  the  blinds, 
whether  in  one  or  in  several  plates,  should  be  strong  enough  to 
sustain  the  lintels  or  flat  arches  of  the  window  openings,  and 
should  furnish  a  substitute  for  the  iron,  which  is  usually  sunk  in 
below  these  flat  arches  or  lintels  to  the  detriment  of  their 
strength ;  these  ii'on  frames  might  even  form  ties  if  they  were 
built  in  as  the  walls  were  raised ;  in  slight  constructions  they 
would  be  rigid  enough  to  allow  a  diminution  of  thickness  in 
the  piers ;  they  would  in  fact  form  the  skeleton  of  the  front 
walls ;  which  might  then  be  pierced  wath  openings  very  near 
to  one  another  if  this  should  seem  needful. 

Thus  the  window-casing  would  resume  its  function, — the 
function  it  had  in  primitive  constructions ;  it  would  aftbrd  sup- 
ports of  greater  strength  than  the  rest  of  the  wall,  which  would 
thus  become  mere  filling-in.      The  iron,  although  combined  with 

'  This  has  already  been  attempted,  and  irou  wiudows  have  been  successfully  manu- 
factured, at  )irices  very  little  exceeding  those  of  wooden  ones,  by  M.  Maury,  one  of  the 
exhibitors  at  the  Erposition  Universelle.  of  18(i7. 


LECTURE  XV1I1. 


307 


b'Ki.  :i.— Design  for  a  French  Street  Villii.    Gai-den  Elevation. 


308  LECTURES  OX  ARCIIITEGTURE. 

the  masonry,  would  preserve  its  independent  function,  and  would 
not  injure  the  masonry  by  the  oxidation  of  the  fastenings. 

Let  us  examine  in  detail  the  various  parts  of  the  small 
building  represented  in  figs.  1  and  2,  and  Plates  XXXIV.  and 
XXXV.  ^  The  jjolygonal  part  of  the  staircase  is  si;pported 
by  a  cast-iron  pillar,  and  projects  beyond  the  line  of  the 
ground-floor,  as  shown  in  the  persjaective  sketch,  figure  3. 

On  this  pillar,  or  rather  on  its  cap,  which  supports  one 
side  of  the  polygon,  is  placed  a  bearer  of  angle-iron,  to  which  are 
secured,  by  means  of  corner-couplings,  the  angle  supports  (also 
of  iron)  of  the  staii'case,  to  which  are  fastened  the  braces  of  the 
windows,  and  the  plate-iron  strings  inside,  which  receive  the 
risers  of  the  steps.  The  intervals  are  filled  with  brick.  This 
part  of  the  stau'case,  therefore,  is  entirely  constructed  of  iron 
and  brick,  and  may  be  no  more  than  4^  inches  thick.  The  pro- 
jecting roof  covers  its  top  as  seen  in  Plate  XXXV.  and  figure  3. 

As  regards  the  arrangements  for  wmdow  protection,  before 
speaking  of  the  particular  case  presented  here,  let  us  see  how  it 
can  be  applied  in  ordmary  buildmgs. 

We  suppose  an  outer  wall  of  the  usual  strength,  i.e.  20 
inches  thick  in  stone  or  rubble  work.  Let  us  take  first  the 
window  of  the  ground-floor,  wliich  should  be  securely  shut- 
tered-up  during  the  night,  fig.  4.  The  jambs  are  of  stone, 
forming  two  exterior  projections  A,  receiving  the  iron-box 
which  contains  the  mechanical  appliances  (an  endless  screw  or 
chains)  for  raismg  and  lowering  the  plates  of  sheet-u'on  which 
are  wound  up  behind  the  metal  valance  b.  Behind  this 
valance  is  a  stone  lintel  c,  only  7  inches  thick  ;  it  is  a  single 
slab  on  edge,  and  bearing  on  the  iron  lintel  of  the  window- 
frame,  which  is  connected  with  the  iron  tie-rods.  The  remain- 
ing space  of  13  inches  is  covered  by  a  brick  arch  D,  which  bears 
the  joists  of  the  flooring,  if  these  are  supported  by  the  front 
wall.  This  arch  is  shown  in  dotted  lines  In  the  elevation.  The 
projection  of  the  jambs  A,  in  the  height  of  the  lintel,  is  increased 
by  corbels  bearing  the  stone  capping  F,  which  gives  complete 
protection  to  the  metal  valance  and  the  moveable  plates.  But 
it  would  be  well  for  the  whole  system  which  constitutes  the 
shuttering  to  be  combined,  as  remarked  above,  and  that  the 
casements,  the  reveals,  and  the  mechanical  apparatus  with  the 
valance  should  be  of  cast  and  sheet-iron,  which  would  tend  to 
give  gr'eat  solidity  to  the  budduig,  and  woidd  allow  the  piers 
between   the   bays   to    be  recessed, — thereby    affording    useful 

1  It  has  seemed  ilesirable  to  take  a  very  unpretentimis  builfling  as  a  type.  In  arclii- 
tectural  iiroblems  it  appears  advantageous  to  proceed  from  the  simple  to  the  composite, 
and  it  is  more  difficult  to  build  a  small  house,  with  due  regard  to  economy,  while 
rendering  it  perfectly  adapted  to  its  purpose,  than  to  erect  a  great  public  building  on 
which  vast  sums  and  every  kind  of  luxury,  good  and  bad,  are  lavished. 


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LECTURE  XV III. 


30'J 


r    —  f 

Fu;.  4.  — Design  for  a  French  Street  Villa.— BiUiils  of  the  Windows, 


— i         i';.-AiW.rfl.J 


310  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

spaces  for  furniture.  Let  figure  5  be  an  outer  wall  of  an 
apartment  with  two  windows  ;  the  arrangement  of  window- 
jambs  thus  strengthened  would  enable  us  to  leave  very  com- 
modious recesses  between  the  windows,  which,  like  the  windows 
themselves,  might  be  arched.  The  real  supports  for  the  front 
walls  would  thus  be  the  window -jambs,— a  reasonable  arrange- 
ment, as  the  walls  would  not  be  less  strong,  but  would  require 
less  material,  and  would  therefore  be  lighter.  We  suppose,  of 
course,  that  the  walls  and  the  jambs  are  kept  at  a  thickness 
of  20  inches.  The  back  of  these  recesses  in  the  piers  may  be 
built  with  bricks,  9  inches  thick.     The  recesses  between  the 


Fio.  5. —Plan  iUiistratin^  Iron  Wimlows, 


windows  would  therefore  be  1 1  inches  deep, — a  very  useful  space, 
where  every  inch  is  of  value.  It  might  perhaps  be  objected 
that  outer  walls  thus  reduced  in  thickness  in  the  piers  would 
not  offer  a  sufficient  cohesion ;  but  to  this  we  reply  that 
these  windows,  well  stayed  by  the  arches  and  the  balustrade 
bars  (whose  function  would  thus  be  useful  to  the  stnxcture), 
well  tied  longitudinally  at  the  height  of  the  casement  lintels, 
composing  a  homogeneous  whole,  inasmiich  as  the  thiiisting  and 
pulling  forces  act  simultaneously  and  neutralise  each  other, 
would  give  an  absolute  rigidity  to  the  vertical  surfaces ;  while 
these  outer  walls,  thus  lightened,  could  be  built  on  less  costly 
foundations,  and  would  not  require  such  expensive  substruc- 
ture in  the  case  of  compressible  soils. 

Reverting  to  figure  4,  we  see  how  the  metsl  persiennes  &xe 
lodged  outside  and  folded  back  even  with  the  projecting  jambs 
H,  m  the  space  reserved  outside  the  window  reveals  at  L.  In 
plan,  these  windows  exhibit  the  section  A,  figure  6  ;  in  eleva- 
tion, the  sketch  b  on  the  outside  and  D  on  the  inside  ;  in  section , 
the  sketch  E.  We  suppose  these  metal  persiennes  to  be  hung 
not  to  the  arris  of  the  stone  i-eveals,  but  to  the  metal  reveals 


LECTURE  XV 1 1 1. 


311 


foi'uiing  a  frame  for  the  casements,  and  also  for  the  persiennes. 
This  window  arrangement  may  therefore  be  fixed  all  complete, 
and  the  lintels  of  the  casements  be  connected  with  the  ends  of 
the  tie-rods  passing  through  the  piers.      These  tie-rods  are  thus 


Fia,  6.— Details  of  Iron  Windows. 


quite  in  theu'  place,  since  they  are  carried  through  at  the  height 
of  tlie  springing  of  the  relieving  arches.  The  stone  lintels  are 
no  longer  weakened,  and  only  form  a  facing.  The  string  course 
connects  them  with  the  interior  relieving  arches.     The  ends  of 


.'^ 


312  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

the  iron  joists  of  the  flooring  may  therefore  safely  rest  on  these 
reheving  arches.  As  regards  the  opening  of  the  double  window 
in  figure  3,  in  the  ground-floor  overlooking  the  garden,  as  it  is 
much  wider  than  the  window-openings  of  the  upper  stories,  it 
is  divided  by  an  iron  mullion  which  supports  the  two  reheving 
arches,  and  serves  to  carry  the  casements  of  this  window.  This 
mulUon  does  not  go  beyond  the  external  vertical  plane  of  the 
arches,  so  that  room  is  left  for  the  metal-plate  shutters. 

It  does  not  seem  necessary,  however,  to  dwell  longer  on  this 
unpretending  building,  which  has  given  us  an  opportunity  for 
suggestmg  some  details  applicable  to  the  most  modest  private 
dwelhngs.  It  is  clear,  however,  that  mixed  constructions  of  the 
kind  referred  to,  in  which  iron  constitutes  an  important  element, 
can  be  executed  at  moderate  prices  only  in  large  towns,  until 
our  great  metallurgic  establishments  can  freely  supply  iron  work 
suitable  for  such  liudding  appliances  at  very  reduced  prices,  and 
in  great  quantity, — a  state  of  things  which,  we  hoj^e,  will  soon 
be  realised. 

As  respects  the  ari'angements  of  great  city  houses  containing 
apartments  in  flats,  they  do  not  lend  themselves  to  very 
important  changes.  The  substitution  of  iron  for  wooden  par- 
titions, and  a  greater  degree  of  freedom  in  the  form  of  the 
windows,  will  not  give  tliese  houses  a  decided  character,  as  their 
local  position  and  our  municipal  regulations  present  obstacles 
to  all  manifestations  of  originality  in  their  architecture. 

It  is  clear,  however,  that  if  these  regulations  were  less 
rigorous,  it  would  be  possible  for  the  architects  of  lai'ge  cities, 
Paris  especially,  to  mtroduce  certain  improvements  into  rented 
houses, — certain  convenient  arrangements  not  attainable  now. 
Thus,  for  instance,  though  it  may  be  desirable  to  forbid  projec- 
tions, corbeUmgs,  and  covered  loggias  which  would  intercept  air 
and  sunshine  in  thoroughfares  40  feet  wide  and  imder,  such 
restrictions  are  unreasonable  m  the  case  of  those  whose  breadth 
is  more  than  65  or  70.  Independently  of  the  advantages  and 
pleasure  accruing  to  the  tenants  from  features  of  this  kmd 
]3rojecting  on  corbellings,  the  aspect  of  these  streets  would  be 
improved ;  for  nothing  can  be  more  monotonous  than  our  gi'eat 
boulevards ;  m  vain  do  our  architects  tax  their  ingenuity  to 
decorate  theu-  fagades  with  pilasters  and  ornaments  of  every 
description :  at  a  distance  these  houses  look  just  aUke,  and  do 
not  attract  the  eye  to  any  particrdar  pomt.  Those  whose  fronts 
have  been  the  subject  of  careful  study  in  their  details,  do  not 
produce  any  better  eftect  than  those  whose  exterior  walls  are 
decorated  in  defiance  of  common  sense.  The  masses  them- 
selves, the  arrangement  of  the  windows,  the  height  of  the  stories 
and  the  projections  being  the  same  for  all,  these  details,  whether 


LECTURE  XVIII.  313 

good  or  bad,  are  lost  sight  of,  and  interest  no  one.  Since 
municipal  regulations  have,  however,  without  sufficient  reason, 
fixed  the  thickness  of  freestone  walls  at  about  20  inches  (19"G9), 
2">rojecting  loggias  and  corbellings  might  well  have  been  allowed 
in  the  wider  thoroughfares,  since  that  thickness  of  wall  allows 
such  features  to  be  constructed  with  perfect  safety.  And  such 
projections  alone  could  obviate  the  tiresome  monotony  of  long 
lines  of  uniform  frontages. 

There  is  little  hope  of  inducmg  the  administrations  of  our 
coimtry  to  retrace  their  steps  in  regard  to  measures  which  were 
excellent  perhaps  at  the  time  they  were  adopted,  but  which  have 
become  obsolete  as  the  result  of  changed  conditions ;  but  we 
should  never,  as  the  adage  has  it,  "throw  the  helve  after  the 
hatchet "  by  refusing  to  seek  for  improvements  on  the  pretext 
that  they  will  be  rejected.  It  is  in  consequence  of  such  a  poUcy 
that  in  France  we  fall  under  the  tyi'anny  of  a  routme  which  is 
]ierpetuated  because  it  is  deemed  hopeless  to  oppose  it.  The 
more  intelligent  lose  theu"  interest,  and  dull  mmds  conceal  their 
indolence  and  incompetence  beneath  a  sceptical  exterior,  A\hich 
simidates  deep  insight ;  the  Avild  and  visionary  alone  rush  mto 
the  arena  and  soon  by  then-  extravagance  justify  routine,  which 
does  not  fail  to  make  the  most  of  its  easy  triumph  by  shutting 
the  gates  agamst  investigation  and  judicious  criticism. 

The  innovations  which  builders  venture  upon  in  our  city 
houses  are  not  very  extensive.  For  some  time  past  architects 
have  thought  proper  to  substitute  round  towers  for  the  truncated 
cones  presented  at  the  corners  of  our  great  thoroughfares ;  the 
mode  has  been  caught  up  immediately,  and  a  hundred  houses, 
forming  angles  in  this  position,  have  been  terminated  hj  a  round 
tower.  This  is  not  an  innovation,  as  might  be  supposed,  but 
the  revival  of  an  arrangement  which  in  certain  cases  has  its 
advantages,  but  which  has  also  its  inconveniences.  A  circular 
apartment  is  not  exactly  adapted  for  furniture.  Though  such  a 
form  may  be  suitable  for  boudoii's,  or  small  private  apartments, 
it  is  not  convenient  for  reception-rooms  ;  whereas  in  our  modern 
houses  it  is  the  cb'awing-room  that  occupies  this  privileged  place 
— that  is,  it  is  the  apartment  destmed  for  receivmg  company  m 
large  niimbers.  A  circiUar  drawing-room  is  adopted  as  the 
fashionable  one  m  a  certam  cUque,  just  as  an  inconvei^ent 
toilet,  w^hich  aU  the  world  wears,  is  submitted  to.  It  is  a 
thing  of  fashion. 

I  can  understand  how  a  municipal  adnmiistration  should  be 
justified  in  taxing  the  permission  to  build  projecting  structures 
even  in  very  wide  thoroughfares,  as  they  do  that  of  erecting  a 
balcony.  "  You  have  the  enjoyment  of  a  space  taken  from  the 
public  street :  pay  for  it."    That  is  but  just ;  but  if  it  occasions  no 


J^ 


3U  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

inconvenience  to  the  passers  along  this  street,  why  should  it  be 
absolutely  forbidden  ?  And  why  should  the  adrainistration 
deprive  itself  of  this  somxe  of  revenue  ■? 

Will  it  be  alleged  that  these  projecting  structures  are 
dangerous  ?  It  is  easy  to  show  that  this  anxiety  is  not  well 
founded  ;  besides,  has  not  the  municipal  body  inspectors  who  can 
point  out  faults  in  construction,  and  put  a  veto  on  objectionable 
erections  ?  Is  it  not  sti'ange  that,  with  the  appliances  now  at 
our  disposal,  which  allow  of,  and  even  incite  to,  so  many  innova- 
tions, we  should  continue  to  build  exactly  as  we  did  in  the  last 
century  ?  That  we  should  continue  to  ei-ect  heavy  piers  such  as 
were  erected  when  iron  floors  had  not  come  mto  vogue,  and  heap 
up  piles  of  stones  for  the  fronts  of  houses,  while  walls  of  the  same 
height  and  supporting  the  same  weights  are  built,  overlooking 
courts,  in  thicknesses  less  by  half,  without  any  accident  resulting? 
It  would  seem,  in  fact,  as  if  the  houses  of  Paris,  and  of  the  great 
towns  built  in  imitation  of  Paris,  were  erected,  not  for  those  who 
live  in  them,  but  with  a  view  to  present  certain  monumental 
aspects  to  passers-by,  who,  be  it  observed,  pay  little  attention  to 
them  ;  that  they  are  built  for  show,  in  preference  to  other 
considerations.  We  thus  exhibit  to  ourselves  and  to  strangers 
palatial  fronts  which  conceal  narrow  and  unhealthy  apartments. 
Splendour  outside,  discomfort  within  ;  is  not  this  the  j^lan  on 
which  most  of  our  great  rented  houses  are  constructed  ?  And  is 
not  this  the  material  expression  of  moral  infirmities  which  are 
conductmg  us  to  a  rapid  decline  ?  Little  sterling  worth,  great 
vanity  and  desire  to  make  a  show,  and  as  the  residt  of  this  a 
social  condition  in  which  envy  becomes  the  prime  mover ;  that 
is,  an  incessant  and  immoderate  desire  to  seem  grander  people 
than  we  really  are,  and  a  secret  hatred  for  all  that  is  produced 
superior  to  what  we  can  exhibit. 

Let  us  suppose  that  our  municijsal  regulations  have  been 
revised,  corrected,  and  brought  into  harmony  with  our  habits  and 
requirements,  and  the  novel  facilities  furnished  by  our  appliances 
for  building ;  that  these  regulations  take  account  to  some  extent 
of  questions  of  art,- — of  variety  of  aspect  accordmg  with  the 
tastes  of  the  inhabitants  of  a  great  city ;  that  they  give  up 
the  attempt  to  make  our  dwellings  a  kind  of  phalansterium  in 
which  each  member  is  supjDosed  to  have  the  same  aptitudes,  the 
same  occupations,  the  same  tastes,  the  same  desires,  the  same 
number  of  children,  the  same  income,  and — the  same  ennui. 
Let  us  suppose  that  those  who  have  been  for  some  time  intrusted 
with  municipal  authority,  and  who  say  they  have  been  the 
enemies  of  Communism,  should  cease  the  work  of  paving  the 
road  (by  the  strangest  of  contradictions)  for  the  most  abject  Com- 
munism ;  let  us  suppose  that  our  administrative  body  becomes 


LECTURE  XVIII.  315 

the  opponent  of  the  system  of  making  regulations  for  everything 
and  d  proims  of  evei-ything ;  and  that  its  measui-es  tend  to  pro- 
tect the  initiative  of  private  persons  as  far  as  this  does  not  run 
counter  to  the  pubhc  good,  and  to  further  mental  independence. 
Let  us  suppose  that  it  no  longer  meets  with  a  frown,  hut  rather 
welcomes  ^vith  a  smile,  every  innovation,  every  effort  to  quit  the 
beaten  path,  every  attempt  to  get  rid  of  prejudice,  and  of  the 
tyranny  of  such  or  such  corporate  bodies,  calling  themselves 
official  or  administrative. 

Let  VIS  suppose  that  it  appreciates  the  value  of  time,  and  per- 
ceives that  it  is  very  indiiFerent  economy,  even  in  its  own 
interest, — which  we  must  believe  is  that  of  the  country, — to 
make  a  tax-payer  lose  a  day's  returns  worth  sixteen  shillings  to 
him  in  order  to  make  him  pay  sevenpence  halfpenny  to  the 
exchequer.  Let  us  suppose  that  it  considers  it  its  duty  to 
facilitate  and  to  simplify  instead  of  shackling  and  embarrass- 
ing ;  let  us  suppose  in  fine  that  it  ceases  to  consider  itself 
infallible  aod  immutable,  and  that  it  recognises  the  necessity, 
in  an  age  when  everything  changes  so  rapidly,  of  anticipating 
changes,  and  not  waiting  for  them  to  be  called  for  by  the  public 
year  after  year,  and  submitting  at  last  with  a  bad  grace  and 
with  reservations.  Then  perhaps  we  shall  be  allowed  to  add 
projecting  structures  to  houses  whose  fronts  open  on  oiu-  wide 
thoroughfares.  The  day  when  this  state  of  things  is  realised  we 
shall  be  able  to  assure  ourselves  that  the  country  is  entering  on 
a  new  era,  and  that  the  French  are  ceasing  to  be  a  flock  of  sheep, 
— docUe  or  ennujCs  as  the  case  may  be, — absolutely  submissive 
to  the  crook,  or  throwing  themselves  one  after  another  madly 
into  the  sea  as  in  the  episode  of  Panuig-e. 

In  a  single  morning  we  change  our  Government,  and  pass 
through  a  revolution.  We  exchange  a  monarchy  for  a  republic 
or  a  republic  for  a  monarchy  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  But  it 
takes  longer  to  alter  a  municipal  regulation  or  abolish  obsolete 
customs  wliich  are  inexplicable  in  the  new  state  of  things. 

What  administration  \vill  have  the  daring  to  recognise  the 
fact  that  it  is  viseless  to  build  freestone  front  walls  nearly  twenty 
inches  thick  for  private  houses  ?  Who  will  dare  to  give  per- 
mission to  build  at  a  less  costly  rate  by  giving  these  walls  no 
moi'e  strength  than  they  really  need  ?  Or,  to  go  further  :  Who 
will  grant  toleration  for  corbelled  projections  ?  I  do  not  know. 
Let  us  nevertheless  endeavour  to  show  the  advantages  that 
woidd  accrue  from  such  toleiation  and  these  alterations  in  the 
state  of  things. 

And  first  let  us  examine  our  modern  buildings,  and  note  their 
defects.  Thirty  years  ago  houses  were  still  being  built  in  Paris 
of  stone,  rubble-work,  and  timber.     Li  this  style  of  construction 


^Ph 


3 1 6  LECTURES  OS  A  It  CHI  TECTURE. 

there  was  the  disadvantage  that  stone  was  laid  on  wooden  brest- 
Kummers,  for  as  the  latter  inevitably  decayed  beneath  the  walls, 
however  good  the  condition  of  the  latter,  underpinning  was 
necessary  after  some  years;  an  operation  which  is  often  hazardous, 
and  always  very  troublesome  to  the  occupants.  All  the  floors 
were  of  wood,  with  trimmers  and  trimming  joists,  stirrups,  etc. 
This  was  not  a  very  good  plan,  but  no  other  means  were  at 
disposal,  and  very  thick  walls  wei'e  necessary  to  give  holding  to 
the  thick  joists  used  ;  besides,  thick  courses  had  to  be  laid  on  the 
wooden  brest-summers,  and  they  had  to  be  well  supported  on 
their  surface,  which  could  not  be  less  than  20  inches  wide ; 
because,  for  greater  security,  it  was  necessary  to  make  the  brest- 
summers  with  two  pieces  coupled  together  and  give  each  piece  a 
thickness  of  8  or  10  inches.  But  when  iron  brest-summers  took 
the  place  of  wooden  ones,  not  only  was  it  unnecessary  to  give 
them  such  a  thickness,  but  that  the  system  might  be  perfectly 
resisting  without  an  excessive  use  of  iron,  the  pieces  coupled 
together  coidd  be  only  12  to  15  inches  apart.  A  wall  of  20 
inches  thick  therefore  went  beyond  the  brest-summer  destined 
to  carry  it,  and  this  excess  was  rather  detrimental  than  usefid. 

As  respects  iron  floorings,  since  there  was  nothing  to  be 
feared  from  fire,  and  as  each  joist  only  has  a  bearing  edgeways 
of  1^  to  2  inches,  and  they  are  placed  28  niches  apart,  they 
might  be  built  into  the  walls  without  any  fear  of  weakening  the 
latter ;  so  that  thenceforth  thei'e  was  no  need  to  maintain  the 
walls  at  theii'  former  tliickness.  But  while  the  conditions  of 
construction  were  being  changed,  the  regulations  remained  the 
same,  and  appeared  not  to  recognise  these  modifications. 
Builders  therefore  did  not  carry  out  these  first  essays  to  their 
natural  consequences.  Not  long  ago,  however,  many  of  them 
drew  this  simjjle  inference  :  "  Since  iron  flooring  is  bemg  used 
instead  of  wooden  flooring,  why  shovdd  not  iron  be  used  instead 
of  wood  for  the  framework  of  partitions  ?"  Bold  though  the 
suggestion  was,  it  had  some  results,  and  several  iron-framed 
partitions  were  constructed  at  Paris.  But  timorous  people  and 
carpenters  asserted  that  this  would  be  ruinous ;  though  the 
cost  is  nearly  the  same,  and  it  woiUd  be  diminished  as  regards 
iron  if  this  system  were  generally  adopted.  It  would  seem 
possible  to  extend  this  reasonmg  :  "  If  front-walls  were  foi-merly 
made  of  wooden  framing  which  served  the  purpose  very  well, 
except  that  it  entailed  the  great  inconvenience  of  propagating 
fires  fi'om  one  side  of  the  street  to  the  other,  by  falling  in 
burning  masses  on  the  thoroughfares,  and  if  on  this  accoimt  it 
was  justly  prohibited,  whereas  iron  framing  cannot  burn,  there 
would  be  no  reason  for  forbidding  its  use  for  outer  walls,  and 
therefore  its  use  should  be  allowed.     Besides,  as  iron  framing,  is 


LECTURE  A'Vin.  317 

stronger  than  timber  fi-aming,  feats  of  construction  might  be 
achieved  with  iron  which  would  be  impossible  with  wood!" 
We  see  wooden  corbelhngs  on  stone  ground-floors  two  or  tlu'ee 
centui-ies  old,  and  which  are  stUl  standing  ;  why  then  should  we 
not  erect  similar  corbelhngs  of  iron  on  stone  ground-floors  in 
the  present  day !  Because,  Jirst,  Municipal  regulations  would 
not  allow  it ;  secondly,  Because  we  have  lost  the  habit  of  well- 
considered  and  reasonable  systems  of  construction,  and  do 
nothing  but  reproduce  forms  to  an  mdefinite  extent,  which  may 
be  classical,  but  which  are  certainly  little  in  accord  with  our 
requirements,  and  which  are  repulsively  monotonous. 

Ii'on  construction  is  costly,  it  will  be  oljjected.     But  in  the 
first  place  this  assertion  is  questionable.     Iron  construction  is 
dear  when  people  do  not  know  how  to  nse  that  material,  and 
laAash  it  uselessly,  as  has  been  done  in  more  than  one  pubhc 
building  which  I  covild  mention ;  it  is  dear  because  architects 
disdain  to  study  the  question,  and  there  is  not  one  in  ten  who 
is  acquainted  with  the  properties  of  u"on  as   beai-ing   on  the 
methods  of  usmg  it.     This  sort  of  thing  is  not  taught  at  the 
Ecole  des  Bexiux  Arts;  or,  if  it  is  taught  there,  the  student.s, 
intent  as  they  are  on  producing  pretty  di-a-n-ings  to  be  exhibited 
at  the  too  numerous  competitions,  derive  little  advantage  fi-om 
the  teaching.     Ah-eady,   even   as   thing's   are,   it   is   possible   to 
employ  hon  largely  in  buUding,  without  exceeding  the  usual 
limits  of  expense.     But  if  its  use  became  general,  and  if  architects 
would  give   then-   serious  attention   to   the   question,  and   put 
themselves  in  a  position  to  solve  it  by  earnest  study,  our  manu- 
facturers would  soon  make  arrangements  that  would  enable  us 
to  obtain  iron  wrought  under  better  conditions  than  exist  at 
present.     The  supply  is  in  proportion  to  the  demand,  and  a 
quality  of  iron  is  now  supplied  at  ordinary  prices  which  twenty 
years  ago  could  only  be  obtained  at  an  exceptional  cost.     The 
more  the   makers  are   requhed  to   produce,  the   more   copious 
will  be  the  supply  at  moderate  prices  of  u-on  in  shapes  which  are 
now  considered  to  require  special  machmery  and  appliances.     It 
is  not  for  manufacturers  to  anticipate  the  demand  or  to  foresee 
the  various  kinds  of  u'on-work  which   ingenious  and  scientific 
l)uilders  wiU   reqiui-e :    it   is   for   these   to   study   the  matter, 
and  to  indicate  what  is .  necessaiy  for  the  realisation  of  their 
projects.     If  each  waits  tiU  the  other  begins;  if  buUdere,  to 
excuse  themselves  from  tiying  anything  new,  fall  back  on  the 
insufficiency  of  manufactured  appliances,  and  if,  on  the  other 
liand,  the  manufactm-ers  delay  prodiiction  till  they  receive  orders, 
the  present  state  of  things  may  long  continue.     It  must   un- 
happily be  confessed  that  hitherto  it  is  not  aixhitects  who  have 
called  forth  the  production  of  iron-work  suitable  for  building, 


318  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

but  civil  engineers,  and  a  few  builders  of  special  classes.  Thus 
T-irons,  angle-irons,  rib-irons,  those  of  a  U  form,  sheets  of  large 
dimensions  and  great  thickness,  have  been  produced;  and  though 
architects  have  taken  advantage  of  these  products,  it  must  be 
confessed  that  they  have  done  so  with  little  discernment  and 
still  less  economy. 

Have  we  not  seen  iron  shaped  by  ^^laning  used  in  public 
buildings  for  windows,  and  thus  four  times  the  cost  mcun-ed  as 
compared  with  what  it  would  have  been  if  the  article  had  been 
made  and  put  together  with  rolled  u'on  ?  Does  it  not  seem 
monstrous  to  treat  iron  as  if  it  were  joiner's  wood,  especially  to 
those  who  liave  to  bear  the  expense  of  the  process?  But 
architects  who  profess  to  be  the  pillars  of  their  noble  art  do  not 
as  yet  recognise  iron  :  they  employ  it,  but  they  dissemble  its  use, 
— they  do  not  grant  it  the  right  of  appearing  what  it  really  is  ; 
this  is  only  a  left-handed  alliance.  And  it  is  the  tax-payers 
and  the  employers  who  pay  for  these  architectural  crotchets.  If 
a  mere  civil  engineer  or  an  architect,  not  admitted  into  the  caste 
of  the  great  pillars  of  the  art,  has  m vented  a  system  of  con- 
struction which  is  economical,  rational,  and  consequently  most 
suitable  to  the  purpose  and  to  the  material  employed,  do  not 
suppose  that  this  system  will  be  adopted  in  the  buildings 
intrusted  to  the  members  of  the  said  caste  !  Among  many 
examples  of  this  systematic  rejection,  I  may  mention  that  of 
iron  lathing. 

It  is  natural  when  we  have  begun  to  make  iron  roof  fram- 
ing to  avoid  the  use  of  wood  to  support  its  covering.  To 
construct  the  framework  of  a  roof  with  u-on,  and  then  to  put  rafters 
and  battens  of  wood  on  this  u'on  framework  to  fasten  the  slates, 
somewhat  shocks  common  sense,  and  it  is  a  neglect  of  the 
advantage  of  incombustibility  attachmg  to  iron.  We  have  had 
a  melancholy  proof  of  this  in  the  wing  of  the  Tuileries  on  the 
river  side  and  the  Pavilion  de  Flore,  all  whose  roofing  was 
destroyed  by  the  fire  which  was  propagated  from  batten  to 
batten,  from  rafter  to  rafter,  above  the  iron  framework,  which 
would  not  have  occurred  if  iron  laths  had  taken  their  place  ; 
which  might  have  been  done,  as  the  method  had  been  invented 
and  had  been  recommended  to  the  architect  before  the  roof  was 
constructed.  But  this  method  had  the  formidable  drawback  of 
ha\ang  been  employed  with  complete  success  in  a  building 
which  had  not  been  erected  under  the  superintendence  of  an 
architect  belonging  to  the  classical  caste  ;  and  this  is  the  reason 
why  the  tax-payers  will  have  .to  pay  for  the  restoration  of  the 
roofs  as  well  as  for  the  consequences  of  their  destruction.  We 
shall  return  to  the  subject  of  iron  roofing  and  the  system  of 
covering  they  require. 


LECTURE  XV 1 11.  319 

Let  us  first  see  how  iron  framing  might  be  utihsed  for  outer 
walls,  and  the  purposes  to  which  corbelling  might  be  turned, 
supposing  tlie  authorities  woidd  allow  of  it  in  wide  thorough- 
fares. 

Though  the  conveiaience  of  trade  is  incompatible  with  porticos, 
and  our  shopkeepei's  wish  to  be  close  on  the  street  in  Paris  and 
other  large  towns,  it  is  not  equally  hostile  to  awmings, — a  proof 
of  which  is  that  permission  to  put  them  up  is  solicited  and  obtained 
for  a  consideration  from  the  municipal  authorities,  with  a  view  to 
the  convenience  of  customers  and  for  protection  to  goods  against 
the  sun.     Besides,  many  tradesmen  rent  along  with  the  ground- 
floor  an  entresol  to  give  additional  storehouse  room,  or  for  habita- 
tion.    And  as  dealers  wish  to  have  their  shops  as  widely  open 
'  possible  they  greatly  dislike  those  great  stone  piers  wliicli 
py  so  much  space  ;  and  therefore  endeavour  to  lessen  their 
ber  as  far  as  possible  in  building  plans.     It  would  appear  that 
i  were  to  build  front  walls  of  no  more  than  adequate  thick- 
whether  in  brick,  stone,  or  even  iron  framing,  those  great 
3  piers  might  be  entirely  suppressed,  except  for  corners  and 
^- walls.     Those  intermediate  stone  piers  suppressed  between 
3arty-walls,  would  be  replaced,  as  is  already  not  unfrequentlv 
case,    by    cast-ii'on    columns.      These    cast-iron    columns 
5sarily  cany  u'on  brest-summers  which  are  now  laid  veiy 
Ivantageously  on  stone  piers  which  they  tend  to  weaken, 
vhich  woidd  be  much  better  secured  if  they  rested  only  on 
als   properly    arranged  to    receive    them.     If  these   brest- 
lers  bear  the  joists  of  the  fii'st  floor,  those  joists  may  project 
id  the  exterior  face  of  the  brest-summers,  and  receive  at 
extremity,  on  bracketing,  the   iron   framing  of  a   front, 
as  the  wooden  joists  in  ancient  houses  carried  projecting 
of  timber  framing.      But   these  old  wooden  houses  were 
enerally  very  lofty.     Their  timber-framed  fronts  were  there- 
not  very  heavy.     It   would   be   other-wdse  with  our  iron- 
ed front  walls  on  our  wide  thoroughfares,  five  stories  liigh, 
is  65  feet  from  the  level  of  the  causeway  to  the  cornice. 
1  this  case  we  must  suppose  the  bracketing  to  be  very 
y.     On  the  other  hand,  if,  e.g.,  we  did  not  erect  a  single 
pier  on  a  front  65  feet  long,  and  if  between  the  party- walls 
aced  as  supports  only  cast-iron  columns  or  plate-u'on  tubes, 
erpendicularity  of  these  columns  must  be  secured  ;   they 
be  prevented  from  iuchning  either  towards  the  outside  or 
iside.      Bracketing  would  give  us  facihties  for  obviating 
anger,  and,  while  obviatuig  it,  the  means  of  giving  all  the 
.fth  necessary  for  the  projection  on  which  the  overhanging 
wall  would  rest, 
^tiling  shows  more  clearly  the  empirical  character  of  the 


^^ 


320  LECTURES  OX  ARCHITECTURE. 

modern  methods  of  building,  than  those  shop-fronts  which  ar 
contrived  for  as  an  after-thought,  without  any  account  bein< 
taken  of  the  stone  piers  or  cast-iron  cohnnns  left  in  the  cleai 
Nothing  proves  more  evidently  the  influence  of  routine  amon; 
us  than  this  continuance  of  two  structures  in  juxtapositioi 
without  any  attempt  to  combine  or  unite  them.  Why  not  mak 
use  of  these  iron  columns,  which  are  necessary  supports,  a 
uprights  for  the  shop-fronts  in  question  ?  Why  should  thes 
sho2i-fronts  be  extraneous  contiivances  instead  of  being  made  t 
contribute  themselves  to  the  stability  of  the  ground-floor  ?  Th 
municipal  authorities  require  that  front  walls  should  be  some  2'  ■ 
inches  thick,  and  consequently  that  the  piers  of  the  ground-floo 
should  be  of  the  same  dimension,  but  it  does  not  forbid  thos 
shop-fronts  being  part  and  parcel  of  the  construction  or  th 
combination  of  those  supj^orting  cohunns  with  them,  instead  c 
presenting  inconvenient  and  ungraceful  independent  uprights 
Foundries  can  just  as  well  cast  columns  of  rectangular  as  cm 
circular  section.  Nothing  prevents  these  columns  from  beariui 
the  grooves  and  shoulders  necessary  for  the  ii"on  or  wooden  frame 
of  the  shop  fronts.  But  for  this  purpose  they  must  be  flush  wit 
the  jierpendicular  of  the  exterior  face,  which  is  scarcely  possibl 
with  walls  20  inches  thick.  Let  us  therefore  abandon  thes 
traditions,  which  have  originated  not  in  any  structural  principles 
but  m  a  succession  of  contrivances  gradually  adopted  withou 
any  energetic  endeavour  once  for  all  to  seek  a  nattu-al  and  sinipl 
solution  harmonising  with  novel  requirements.  Let  us  suppose 
I  say,  once  more,  that  our  municii^al  authorities  have  made 
clear  sweep  of  regulations  accumulated  without  reference  t 
present  needs  and  modern  industrial  appliances.  Let  us  suppos 
that  private  enterprise  is  fostered  among  builders  as  well  a 
among  those  who  employ  them.  A  few  tiials  will  soon  convinc 
us  that  cast-u'on  in  the  shape  of  supports  occasions  incon 
veniences  and  difliculties  when  it  has  to  be  combined  wit 
laminated  iron,  and  that  plate-iron  mtelligently  used  is  muc 
more  reliable,  and  permits  of  much  stronger  combinations.  Thi 
first  step  taken,  we  will  examine  how  the  programme  of  retpiirt  / 
ments  just  suggested  might  be  carried  out  with  this  material. 

what  is  required  in  most  of  our  large  city  houses  is  a  grounc 
floor  free,  as  far  as  possible,  from  solid  masses,  piei's  or  walls  :  th 
is  what  business  demands.  Shops  such  as  our  times  call  f 
should  present  a  surface  entirely  free,  sej^arated  from  the  stre' 
only  by  glazed  partitions  admitting  as  much  light  as  possibl 
It  is  not  by  half-measures  thtvt  such  a  programme  can  be  sati 
factorily  carried  out  even  to  a  moderate  extent,  smce  piers  mu 
be  erected  supporting  front  walls  as  well  as  those  destined 
support  partition  walls.      And  these  partition  walls  are  necessa 


LECTURE  XVIII. 


321 


ith  a  view  to  receiving  the  fluciiiiigs  and  tireplaces  of  the 
oper  stoi-ies,  which  at  the  present  day  are  divided  into  a 
-imber  of  small  apartments,  as  every  one  knows.     The  principle 


Fiti.  7.— Example  uf  Irou-frauicil  fetiect  lloust-.— Details  of  Construction. 

efore  to  be  observed  is, — no  divisions  on  the  ground-floor, 

y  divisions  in  the  upper  stories. 

u  n.  ■         X 


322  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  hard  to  be  obliged  to  cover  a  good 
part  of  the  surface  with  walls,  necessarily  taken  out  of  the  space 
pvu'chased, — -when  it  is  paid  for  at  the  rate  of  something  like  £4 
per  square  foot,  e.g. ;  for  it  must  be  observed  that  our  partition 
walls  will  have  to  be  nearly  20  inches  thick.  Each  wall,  therefore, 
with  a  mean  depth  of  building  of  40  feet  occupies  nearly  65 
square  feet,  whereas  an  u-on-framed  partition  wall  4f  inches  thick 
would  only  occupy  a  space  of  15^  square  feet.  But  how  could 
chimney-flues  be  carried  up  these  thin  iron-framed  partitions  ? 
We  shall  examine  this  point  du'ectly,  and  show  that  these  flues 
would  require  not  more  than  3^  superficial  feet  in  each  story. 

We  shall  begin  with  the  ground-floor,  which  should  be  left 
free  from  tliick  supports  inside,  and  open  as  widely  as  possible 
on  the  thoroughfare. 

Fig.  7  shows  one  of  the  supports  repeated  at  intervals  of 
about  ten  feet,  between  the  party- walls  of  the  front  of  a  house. 
At  A  this  support,  consisting  of  a  rectangular  tube  of  plate-iron, 
is  shown  m  profile  ;  at  b  in  horizontal  section  below  the  corbel 
bracket.  These  tubes  of  plate-iron  receive  the  girders  c,  coii- 
sisting  of  plate  and  angle-iron  carrying  the  double  T-iron  joists 
of  the  flooi'. 

These  girders,  relieved  in  their  bearing  from  one  front  wall 
to  the  other  by  cast-iron  columns,  also  receive  the  u'on  framed 
partition  d.  The  projection  of  the  coi'bel  bracket  carries  the 
brest-summers,  on  which  may  be  placed  the  front  wall,  14  mches 
thick,  in  brick,  or  even  stone,  or  a  thinner  wall  of  iron  framing. 

If  these  front  walls  are  of  brick  or  stone  they  rest  on  brick 
arches  between  the  two  plates  of  the  brest-summers,  as  shown 
in  a  portion  of  the  front  C4.  The  shop-fronts  are  fixed  at  h  (see 
section  b),  and  the  boxes  for  shutter  apparatus  at  a.  The 
valance  receiving  the  plates  of  these  shutters  is  drawn  at  F. 

This  is  a  general  view  of  the  method ;  but  in  nice  construc- 
tions of  this  kind  the  study  of  detail — of  the  mode  of  fastening 
the  iron- work — is  the  main  point.  Let  us  therefore  examine  the 
■construction  of  the  various  parts  of  this  system,  figure  8. 

At  A  is  drawn  the  hoiizontal  section  of  the  support,  below  the 
corbel  brackets,  at  a  the  place  for  the  box  containing  the  shutter 
apparatus.  We  see  at  B  how  the  brackets  c  are  fastened 
between  the  angle-irons  D,  and  how  the  plates  F,  which  form 
the  posterior  part  of  the  shutter  awnhigs,  are  fastened  to  the 
angle-irons  G.  The  front  parts  of  this  valance  are  fixed  at  H, 
and  contribute  to  give  firmness  to  the  system, — to  prevent  the 
tubes  fi-om  losing  then-  perpendicularity  parallel  to  the  front 
wall.  The  two  cheeks  of  plate-iron  e  prolonged  above  the  top 
edge  of  the  tube,  receive  the  clips  k  of  the  gii'der,  whose 
anterior  extremity  L  rests  on  the  end  i  of  the  bracket.     At  N 


LECTURE  AVlll. 


323 


are  seen  the  corner-couplings  of  the  front  plate  forming  brest- 
summer  with  the  other  back  plate  M  and  the  soffit  p.  A 
springer  ii  resting  on  the  end  t  of  the  girder  and  on  the  soffit  P 


Fio.  S.  — Exniiii'Ie  of  Irou-fraiiK-d  Street  House.— Details  of  Construction. 

gives  the  skewback  of  the  brick  arches  indicated  at  G  m  figure  7. 
An  upright  of  the  iron-framed  partition  is  drawn   at  o.     We 


324  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

have  mentioned  flues  for  fireplaces  that  will  require  to  be  carried 
up  these  iron-framed  partitions,  as  it  is  understood  that  in 
buildings  of  this  construction  division-walls  of  thick  masonry 
may  be  dispensed  with.  We  consider  flues  arranged  for  each 
fireplace,  with  special  ventiducts  for  each,  to  be  obsolete  and 
barbarous  methods  :  a  single  ventilator  may  serve  for  all  the 
fireplaces  put  back  to  back  and  one  above  the  other,  taking 
air  from  below,  that  is  in  the  best  way  possible.  A  single 
smoke-flue  may  likewise  serve  for  an  unlimited  number  of 
chimneys  placed  back  to  back  and  superposed,  on  the  condition 
that  this  flue  is  of  sufliciently  large  section  for  the  number  of 
fireplaces. 

The  Mousseron  system,  carefully  applied,  and  with  an  exact 
calculation  of  the  sections  of  the  flues,  has  solved  the  problem. 
The  results  of  experiments  with  it  have  proved  satisfactory. 

For  each  fireplace  of  average  size  a  flue  of  6  inches  square, 
i.e.  a  section  of  36  square  inches,  would  be  quite  enough. 
Supposing  ten  flues  therefore,  that  is  two  fireplaces  back  to 
back,  for  five  stories  we  should  require  a  section  of  360  square 
inches,  occupying  a  parallelogram  of  about  1  foot  by  2  ft.  6  in. 
The  same  would  apply  to  the  supply  of  air. 


l^l-l.l   I  I   Mi 


Fig.  9.— Fireplaces  and  Flues, 


Thus  against  an  iron-framed  partition  the  fireplaces  may  be 
drawn  as  in  figure  9.  One  of  the  shafts  is  intended  to  take 
the  smoke  of  all  the  fireplaces,  the  other  to  supply  air  to  them. 
It  will  be  understood  that  if  we  wish  to  divide  the  flues — that 
is,  to  have  the  necessary  passages  for  smoke  and  ventilation  only 
for  a  series  of  chimneys  one  above  another,  and  not  back  to 
back — half  the  sectional  surface  given  here  wUl  suffice.  Fig.  10 
shows  how  the  shafts  may  be  carried  against  the  iron-framed 
partition  with  the  help  of  iron  bands  A  attached  by  means  of 
angle-plates  and  supported  by  struts  to  the  upright  B.^ 

We  have  shown  that  front  walls  of  stone  or  brick  might  be 
borne  on  the  projections  of  the  corbel  brackets.  But  there  is  no 
reason  for  not  carrying  out  the  principle  to  its  ultimate  conse- 
quences, and  with  a  construction  of  this  kind  it  woiUd  seem 
more  logical  to  adopt  iron  framing  for  the  outer  walls  also.    This 

'  See  for  the  general  arrangement  of  these  bands,  figure  7,  D. 


LECTURE  XVIII. 


.325 


iron  framing  however  could  not  be  thicker  than  7  inches,  and 
a  wall  of  7  inches  would  be  scarcely  a  protection  against  cold 
or  heat.' 

A  thickness  of  about  1  foot  would  be  required  for  healthy- 
habitation.  The  iron  framing:  of  the  walls  mitrht  moreover  be 
connected  with  the  window-cases,  which  under  these  conditions 


^4- 


Fiii.  10. — MinU-  of -sniiiioi-tiiig  the  Fireplaces. 

would  also  have  to  be  of  iron.  This  is  the  way  therefore  in 
wliich  the  problem  might  be  solved.  We  may  imagine  an 
external  facing  of  terra-cotta,  glazed  or  moulded  according  to 
the  taste  of  the  builder,  and  which  would  be  about  2  inches  in 
thickness.  The  brick  wall  behind  this  facing  would  be  9  inches 
thick ;    and   adding   f   of  an   inch   for   the  joints   and   interior 


1'/ 


Fin.  n. — Outer  Wall;;  of  Iroii-framcd  House. 


plastering,  we  have  about  llf  inches.  The  iron  framing,  tig.  1 1, 
would  therefore  be  no  thicker  than  that  facing,  i.e.  2  inches,  and 
a  breadth  of  brick  4^  inches,  say  6i  inches  between  the  flanges, 
or  rather  more  than  7  inches  in  all.  Thus  between  the  flanges 
we  have  the  facing  A  and  the  width  of  a  brick,  and  we  have  the 
width  of  a  second  brick  as  an  interior  lining.  This  structure 
will  of  course  be  bonded  by  bricks  laid  crosswise.     Now  let  us 

'  This  was  the  usual  thickness  of  the  ancient  timber-framed  walls. 


326 


LECTURED  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


examine  the  system  which  would  be  appUcable  in  this  case  as 
regards  the  window- frames,  figure  12.  The  exterior  is  at  x. 
At  A  is  di-avvn  the  horizontal  section  of  one  of  the  two  jambs  of 
these  windows  ;  a  double  L-iron  forms  one  of  the  upiights  of  the 
iron  wall-framing.  The  window-cases  project  on  the  outside  and 
form  a  metal  reveal,  to  which  the  casement  frame  is  attached. 

The  section  of  the  sill  is  given  at  c,  and  that  of  the  lintel 
at  B.  G  is  an  arch  whose  slight  rise  is  given  by  the  flanges  of 
the  double  L-iron  fastened  to  the  upriglit  a  by  means  of  the 


a 


\ 


Fig.  12.- Details  of  tlic  Wiiiiliiws. 


metal  reveal  itself.  For  this  serves  the  purpose  of  angle 
plates,  and  should  be  fixed  at  the  same  time  as  the  uprights, 
siU  and  lintel  of  the  window  frame.  To  the  vertical  plates  of 
the  window-reveal  is  fastened,  by  means  of  small  angle-irons,  the 
aMaiing  p,  which  is  intended  to  receive  the  roller  of  the  metal 
blinds,  whose  plates  come  down  through  the  groove  R.  Thus  all 
holds  together;  each  part  contributes  to  the  stability  of  the  whole 
in  this  system  of  iron  framing,  and  the  window-cases  participate 
in  the  structure.  Plate  XXXVI.  presents  the  external  appear- 
ance of  this  kind  of  structure.     The  balconies  are  siipported  by 


LECTURE  XVIII.  327 

plate-iron  brackets  attached  to  the  awning  of  the  windows  and 
fixed  by  angle-irons  to  the  uprights  of  the  iron  framing. 

The  uaconvenience  attaching  to  thin  waUs  of  brick  or  stone 
is  chiefly  that  they  rapidly  communicate  the  cold  or  heat  of  the 
external  temperatiu-e  to  the  interiox-.  The  ii'on  iiprights,  if  they 
pass  right  through,  have  the  same  temperature  inside  as  out. 
An  outer  waU  of  framed  iron  therefore,  if  not  lined  inside,  would 
present  along  each  member,  duiing  severe  cold,  lines  of  condensa- 
tion of  vapoiu-  which  would  produce  intolerable  deposits  even 
through  plaster,  and  which  would  mark  out  the  iron  structure 
on  the  paper-hangings  or  painting  of  the  rooms.  In  the  outer 
walls  indicated  here,  a  lining  is  therefore  pro\-ided,  as  shown  in 
figm-e  1 1 .  Experience  moreover  has  shown  that  external  facings 
haA-ing  damp-resisting,  smooth  pohshed,  or  even  varnished  siu-- 
faces,  pi-event  heat  or  cold  from  being  communicated  to  the 
material  behmd.  And  this  is  the  reason  why  it  seems  desirable 
that  the  fillino-s-in  of  the  iron  framino;  should  be  faced  outside 
with  glazed  tiles. 

A  propos  of  these  I  may  be  allowed  a  digression.  Dimng  the 
last  ten  years,  England,  perceiving  the  advantage  that  might 
accrue  from  the  use  of  terra-cotta  in  buildmg,  has  greatly 
extended  the  fabrication  of  this  form  of  material.  Gei-many, 
ao;ain,  has  established  manufactories  on  a  larore  scale  for  the 
supply  of  terra-cotta  to  buUders.  In  both  these  countries  builders 
have  done  their  best  to  discover  the  conditions  favoiu^ble  to  the 
emplo}Tnent  of  this  useful  material,  and  in  both  very  imjiortant 
residts  have  already  been  secured.  At  the  recent  Exliibitions  it 
was  manifest  to  what  a  degree  of  perfection  Germany  and 
England  in  particidar  had  brought  the  fabrication  of  terra-cotta 
and  moulded  and  glazed  tdes.  Our  own  manufacturers  have 
also  endeavoured  to  raise  this  branch  of  production  to  the  level 
attained  by  om-  neighbours.  They  have  made  considerable 
efforts  and  sacrifices  ;  many  have  already  obtamed  satLsfoctoiy 
residts  ;  but  persevering  efibrts  and  sacrifices  find  themselves  in 
this  mstance,  as  is  always  the  case  in  France,  confronted  by  mexor- 
able  routine,  and,  with  some  exceptions,  om*  builders  have  treated 
them  with  neglect,  and  rarely  employ  the  products  thus  offered 
tliem.^  Stone  is  still  readily  supplied  ;  they  built  with  freestone 
yesterday,  and  that  is  a  sufficient  reason  for  theh  budduig  with 
freestone  to-morrow.  Enonnous  blocks  are  accumulated,  of  which 
a  quarter  at  least  will  be  lost  in  the  dressing ;  and  that  to  build 
an   unsatisfactory  dwelling,    destined    only  to   last   a   century ; 

'  The  factory  building  just  erected  on  the  M.irne  by  M.  .Saxilnier,  architect,  of  framed 
iron  and  glazed  bricks,  should  however  be  specially  noticed.  This  remarkable  oonstruc- 
tioD,  of  which  the  Enajclopedie  d' Architecture  will  soon  give  a  description,  shows  that 
though  we  are  slow  in  France  to  free  ourselves  from  routine,  we  can  at  lea-st  soon  come 
up  with  our  rivals  when  we  are  once  on  the  road. 


328         LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

valuable  materials,  whose  supply  is  not  inexhaustible,  are  lavished 
to  obtain  results  which  are  inconsiderable  in  every  respect, 
simply  that  we  may  have  the  satisfaction  of  studying  "  the 
orders"  decorating  fagades  which  rest  on  voids  occupied  by 
shops  on  the  ground-floor. 

Confronted  by  this  mania  for  stone,  oui-  French  manu- 
ficturers  who  have  had  the  courage  to  believe  in  the  good  sense 
of  architects  and  their  employers,  and  who  have  supposed  that 
their  efforts  and  sacrifices  would  place  in  the  hands  of  builders 
materials  that  are  useful  in  many  circumstances,  most  desirable 
and  easily  manipiilated, — these  manufacturers,  I  say,  have  some 
difficulty,  for  the  most  part,  in  keeping  np  their  works,  and  what 
they  supply  to  order  is  a  trifle  compared  with  what  they  might 
have  expected  to  supply.  We  are  fain  to  beheve  that  an 
International  Exliibition  wiU  open  great  outlets  for  our  manu- 
factures connected  with  building.  Nothing  of  the  kind, — for 
this  is  what  really  occurs.  In  prospect  of  an  Exposition, 
some  French  manutactm-ers  make  considerable  efforts  and  incur 
great  expense  to  supply  new  products  suited  for  practical  pur- 
poses. The  Exliibition  Commissioners  awai'd  them  a  medal. 
Foreigners  study  these  productions  and  take  advantage  of  them. 
As  for  ourselves,  does  any  one  suppose  that  these  j^roductions  are 
any  moi-e  thought  of  the  day  after  the  Exhibition  is  closed,  or 
that  any  attempt  is  made  to  utilise  them  ?  By  no  means.  We 
retui-n  to  the  routine  that  prevailed  before  the  Exhibition  com- 
menced ;  while  foreigners  profit  by  our  attempts,  study  and 
improve  upon  them,  and  then  some  time  afterwards  we  go  and 
buy  from  them  the  very  products  which  we  have  not  had  the 
common  sense  to  encourage  at  home.  The  Exposition  Universelle 
of  18G7  furnished  a  hundred  examples  of  such  facts.  From  this 
ill-starred  Exhibition,  in  which  the  manufacturing  genius  of 
France  so  honourably  distinguished  itself,  all  have  derived  benefit 
but  ourselves.  All  found  there  inventions  which  they  imme- 
diately adopted.  Among  ourselves  routine  resumed  its  empu-e 
as  before.  Satisfied  to  have  gained  distinction  for  the  moment, 
we  have  taken  no  care  to  follow  up  the  great  efforts  put  forth. 
But  I  am  wi'ong :  this  noteworthy  Exhibition  produced  not 
simply  negative  results  :  we  displayed  before  envious,  rapacious, 
and  pedantic  neighbours  our  wealth,  our  resources,  and  our 
productive  genius  ;  and  three  years  afterwards  these  neighbours 
came  down  upon  that  wealth  to  take  it  away,  and  endeavoured 
to  crush  that  intelligence,  which,  more  than  our  wealth,  excited 
their  envy  and  dissembled  rancour. 

We  cannot  prevent  our  neighbours  from  indulging  sentiments 
resulting  from  a  long-cherished  hatred ;  but  we  should  be 
destitute  of  common  sense,  and  desei-ving  of  the  insiilts  that  have 


t 


COUF^S    D'ARCHITECTUF^E. 


PL  XW!. 


r 


? 


c 


r 


KACt,tNKNCOI\Bl-ll.hMI'iN 


l.-|-',l'.'.Ul:A'll:hl  Iji'.mthV. 


LECTURE  XVII f.  329 

been  heaped  on  us,  if  we  persisted  as  formerly  in  not  being  the 
first  to  carry  out  the  endeavoui's  commenced  by  our  own  inven- 
tive and  versatile  genius. 

It  is  absurd  to  refrain  from  making  use  of  these  efforts  to 
our  own  profit,  and  besides  we  are  thus  destroying  sources  of 
wealth.  How  many  branches  of  industry  could  I  mention  which 
would  have  increased  the  riches  of  our  country  if  we  had  taken 
the  pains  to  become  acquainted  with  them, — to  know  the  nature 
of  their  products;  and  which  have  been  lost  to  us  for  want  of 
encouragement  at  home,  while  our  English  and  German  neigh- 
bours were  making  use  of  them  and  making  us  pay  for  the  results 
of  them  !  We  have  thus  become  tributary  in  respect  of  a  great 
number  of  manufacturing  appliances,  whose  invention  is  due  to 
France  ;  and  in  this  respect  those  who  build,  the  State  itself, 
and  our  architects,  are  blameworthy ;  for  they  thus  discourage 
our  manufacturers  and  occasion  a  considerable  loss  of  wealth  to 
the  country. 

Let  us  now  retiu-n  to  our  unpretentious  habitation.  This 
house,  of  which  Plate  XXXVI.  shows  a  part,  consists  of  a 
ground-floor  constructed  according  to  the  previous  suggestions. 

Externally  the  outlines  of  the  non  framing  remain  apparent. 
The  filling  of  brick  is  faced  with  tiles  of  glazed  terra-cotta,  with 
some  horizontal  courses  of  brick  to  aid  the  flanges  of  iron  in 
holding  these  tiles  to  the  building.  The  overhanging  stories, 
resting  on  corbels,  give  shelter  to  the  shop-fronts  entirely 
unobstructed  along  the  whole  breadth  of  the  front,  between 
the  party-walls,  which  alone  are  built  of  freestone. 

I  do  not  presume  to  offer  this  fragment  as  a  model  for  rented 
houses  hereafter  to  be  built, — as  the  architecture  of  the  future, 
but  simply  as  a  study,  without  reminiscences  to  fall  back  upon, 
of  the  appUances  which  modern  manufactures  offer  us  for  building, 
so  as  to  satisfy  the  requirements  of  our  times.  I  am  quite  aware 
that  it  bears  no  resemblance  to  the  palaces  of  Rome  or  Florence, 
or  a  mansion  of  the  Renaissance  or  of  the  times  of  Louis  xvi. 
But  it  will  be  allowed  that  here  at  anyrate  the  use  of  iron  is  not 
dissembled — that  it  is  frankly  displayed. 

Let  each  try  his  skill  in  this  way,  and  we  shall  soon  have 
succeeded  in  discovering  the  most  suitable  and  pleasing  fonns. 
These  facings  of  enamelled  terra-cotta,  besides  the  advantages 
noticed  above,  may  be  left  in  good  condition  for  an  indeflnite 
time  by  simple  sponge-washing,  without  any  necessity  for  the  pro- 
ceeding in  vogue  for  the  last  ten  years,  of  putting  up  scaffolding 
in  front  of  houses  to  scrape  them  to  the  quick,  or  to  steam  them 
with  a  view  to  clean  them,  to  the  great  annoyance  of  passers-by 
and  the  shopkeepers. 

It  is  evident  that  constnictions  of  this  kuid  require  to  be 


330  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

designed  and  completely  executed  in  the  workshop,  before  being- 
put  vip, — a  consideration  of  no  trifling  importance.  At  present 
when  a  house  is  being  built,  the  thoroughfare  is  encumbered, 
during  a  whole  season  at  least,  with  cart  drays  and  scaflblding. 
Enormous  masses  have  to  be  hoisted  with  great  trouble  and 
expense  ;  and  when  the  stones  are  in  place — ^laid  ahnost  in  the 
rough — a  host  of  workers  and  dressers  must  cover  it,  who 
scatter  dust,  stone,  and  plaster  over  the  whole  neighbourhood. 
For  the  neighbours,  the  building  of  a  house  is  a  calamity ;  to 
tradesmen  close  at  hand,  a  disaster ;  to  passers-by,  it  is  at  least  an 
annoyance  and  a  hindrance,  and  often  a  cause  of  serious  accidents. 

Thoiigh  it  is  sometimes  asserted  that  we  are  the  most  diflicult 
people  in  the  world  to  govern,  I  do  not  know  of  any  civilised 
nation  more  mchned  than  ours  to  accept  the  tyranny  of  routine 
with  philosophic  calmness.  In  France,  people  would  rather  run 
the  risk  of  being  crushed  by  a  stone-cart  or  old  plaster,  than 
seek  for  the  means  of  avoiding  such  annoyances.  This  has  been 
the  case  hitherto,  and  so  we  may  expect  it  to  be  in  the  future. 

Our  builders  find  it  convenient  thus  to  jjossess  themselves  of 
a  part  of  the  highway  for  eight  months  or  a  year,  to  annoy  the 
whole  neighbourhood,  to  encumber  the  streets  with  rubbisli  and 
building  materials,  and  to  spruikle  all  who  pass  by  with  stone 
scrapings ;  this  method  will  serve  the  pui'pose.  But  to  construct  a 
house  in  the  workshop,  the  woodyard,  and  the  factory,  and  to  bring 
it  ready-made  like  a  piece  of  furnitiu'e,  only  requiring  to  be  put  up, 
— that  would  necessitate  fittmg  everything  beforehand,  foreseeing 
everything,  arranging  everything  according  to  its  destmation  as 
to  place  and  time — that  would  requu'e  reflection,  study,  and  pre- 
vision. It  is  much  simpler  to  adopt  the  hand-to-mouth  plan,  to 
put  up  house-fronts  in  the  rough,  and  cut  the  stones  on  the  spot, 
to  erect  the  shell,  and  then  spend  two  or  three  months  in  piercing 
openings  and  holes  in  it  in  every  du'ection, — for  the  wmdows, 
the  doors,  the  heatmg-ajjparatus  pipes,  those  for  gas  and  water, 
for  the  shop-fronts,  the  sign-boards,  the  iron  balconies,  etc.  etc. 

Do  not  our  administrative  boards  set  us  the  example  of  such 
methods  of  jaroceeding  ?  A  street  is  cut,  and  is  paved  ;  people 
pass  along  it  and  suppose  it  finished ;  but  no,  they  unpave  it  to 
make  a  drain ;  then  they  pave  it  again,  and  they  re-unpave  it  to 
make  branch  sewers  or  condmts  for  water.  Sometimes  a  com- 
plamt  is  made  of  this  method  of  procedure,  but  to  such  complaints 
the  oflicials  answer  :  "  These  various  branches  of  highway  manage- 
ment belong  to  diflerent  boards  ;  they  each  proceed  according  to 
their  convenience  or  their  means."  And  all  rest  content  with 
this  irrefutable  reason.  And  the  building  of  om'  houses  is 
conducted  after  the  same  fasliion.  We  make  to  remake,  because 
the  mason  and  the  superintendent  of  the  flue  arrangements,  the 


LECTURE  XVllI.  .  331 

locksmith  and  the  joiner,  come  each  in  theii'  turn  to  the  building 
and  give  themselves  little  concern  about  the  requirements  of 
then-  confrei'es.  It  is  the  busmess  of  the  architect  to  introduce 
order  and  a  combined  purpose  ;  but  the  architect  himself  follows 
routine,  and  has  his  masonry  erected  before  arranging  for  what 
is  to  be  connected  with  it. 

Structures  designed  according  to  a  system  similar  to  that  of 
wliich  we  offer  here  a  specimen,  as  a  simple  study,  would  there- 
fore have  these  advantages ;  they  woidd  be  quite  finished  in 
builders'  yards,  the  factories  and  workshops,  before  bemg  put 
up,  and  consequently  they  would  be  erected  very  quickly,  without 
mishaps,  obstruction,  or  great  annoyance  to  the  neighbourhood. 
But,  I  obsei-ve  once  more,  all  must  be  provided  for  in  advance, 
and  to  this  our  architects  are  not  accustomed. 

We  are  apt  to  rely  a  little  too  much  on  our  lacility  in  getting 
oi\t  of  difficulties.  This,  it  woidd  be  well  to  remember,  has  cost 
us,  and  is  still  costing  us,  very  dear. 

Among  the  serious  objections  (I  do  not  care  to  mention 
others)  that  may  be  brought  agaurst  these  proposals,  for  radical 
innovations  in  the  constraction  of  our  great  city  houses,  might  l^e 
the  expense.  Structui-es  of  this  kind  woidd  be  costly,  it  would 
be  alleged.  I  allow  that,  as  things  now  are,  they  would  be  pretty 
costly,  because  we  are  not  provided  with  the  necessaiy  appliances, 
because  things  of  a  novel  kind  requhe  processes  to  which  we  are 
not  accustomed  ;  because  the  spii'it  of  method  and  foresight  does 
not  exist ;  because  each  is  waiting  for  his  neighbour  to  take  the 
Initiative  ;  because  our  great  manufactoiies  are  waiting  for  orders 
before  they  supply  productions  involving  novel  conditions  of 
fabrication,  while  architects  are  waiting  for  these  new  products 
in  order  to  employ  them  ;  because  our  workmen  have  lost  the 
traditions  of  good  execution,  and  the  claims  they  urge  are  in 
du'ect  proportion  to  their  incompetence ;  because  we  prefer  half 
measures  and  compromises,  and  resolutely  adopt  reforms  only  in 
ovx  talk,  never  in  oiu'  deeds,  except  in  the  way  of  overthrowing 
eveiything,  without  havmg  anything  to  put  in  the  place  of  what 
had  been  estabhshed  ;  because  everybody  blames,  and  abuses,  but 
no  one  has  the  coiu-age  to  take  the  bidl  by  the  horns ;  because 
we  have  not  persistency  and  tenacity,  and  from  the  top  to  the 
bottom  of  the  social  scale  have  become  averse  to  patient  study. 

Yet,  in  spite  of  all  tliis,  it  camiot  be  doubted  that  a  stnicture 
designed  completely  beforehand,  and  all  whose  parts  ordered 
seriatim  were  prepared  in  the  workshop  or  the  foundry,  so  as 
only  to  require  putting  up,  even  if  the  materials  to  be  employed 
were  dear ; — it  cannot  be  doubted,  I  say,  that  such  a  structure 
would  be  erected  at  a  comparatively  moderate  cost. 

Have  we  estimated   the  amount    of  useless,   unproductive 


332  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

expense  in  the  building  of  our  houses,  which  at  their  maximum 
height  at  Paris,  cost  from  £30  to  £40  per  metre  ?  Do  we 
know  how  much  money  is  squandered  on  those  heaps  of  stones, 
of  which  a  fourth  is  cut  away  in  working  and  dressing,  in 
the  continual  alteration  of  what  had  been  done  wrong ;  and  in 
the  successive  re-handhng  of  the  works  by  the  difierent  orders 
of  workmen,  who  follow  each  other  without  a  common  under- 
standing ?  I  think  I  am  not  exaggerating  when  I  say  that  in 
this  way  a  fifth  of  what  is  expended  is  unproductive.  A  structure 
contrived  beforehand  in  all  its  parts,  each  of  which  could  be 
brought  and  placed  in  due  position  and  at  the  right  time, 
without  the  necessity  of  altering  anything  that  had  been  done, 
would,  on  this  consideration  alone,  make  up  this  fifth,  otherwise 
lost.  In  fact  it  woidd  be  something  worth  doing  if  we  only 
procured  a  greater  amount  of  space  in  proportion  to  the  solids. 
But  supposing  the  first  structures  thus  contrived  and  prepared 
before  putting  in  place  were  to  be  costly,  is  it  not  certain  that 
metal,  terra-cotta  works,  etc.,  would  soon  furnish  products  at 
less  and  less  cost  in  proportion  to  the  extent  of  the  demand  ? 

In  1840  the  working  carpenters  took  it  into  their  heads  to 
strike  :  it  was  a  terrible  strike.  Not  a  carpenter  could  be  had. 
Till  then  iron  flooring  had  been  used  only  in  some  public 
buildings,  and  these  were  made  of  very  complicated  iron -work,, 
at  a  very  high  price,  in  consequence  of  the  nature  of  the  manu- 
facture. The  necessity  of  doing  without  carpenters  decided 
builders  to  substitute  iron  for  wood  in  the  floors ;  they  set  their 
wits  to  work  ;  they  first  laid  iron  plates  on  edge  with  bridging, 
and  fiUed  in  vAt\\  plaster,  or  plaster  and  pottery.  Then  some 
works  manufactured  double  T-irons,  and  the  problem  of  u'on  floor- 
ing was  solved  at  once.  Dearer  at  first  than  wooden  floorings,  they 
were  soon  reduced  to  the  same  price  at  Paris  through  the  saving 
in  certain  parts  of  the  masonry,  and  the  rapidity  with  which  they 
wei'e  laid  ;  for  time  may  certainly  be  i-eckoned  money.  And  now 
aU  floorings  in  Paris  are  made  of  iron.  The  honour  of  the  mitiative 
in  this  case  belongs  to  the  carpenters.  It  were  to  be  wished  that 
an  equally  imjaerious  necessity  compelled  us  to  renounce  most  of 
om-  building  processes  as  now  carried  on.  Wood  still  occupies 
too  important  a  place  in  our  public  and  private  buildings  ;  and 
yet  wood  for  timber  and  joinery-work  will  fail  long  before  the 
iron  ore  spread  over  the  face  of  the  globe  will  have  been  exhausted. 
One  of  the  inevitable  consequences  of  civilisation  in  every  country 
is  the  disappearance  of  forests,  those  great  stores  of  useful 
matei-ials.  All  the  countries  that  have  been  occupied  by  peoples 
whose  culture  has  been  long-lived  and  distinguished  have  lost 
their  forests.  Asia  Minor,  Greece,  Italy,  and  the  southern  part 
of  Gaul,  no    longer   possess  wood   suitable  for   building.     The 


LECTURE  A'VIIl.  333 

north  of  France  is  seeing  its  forests  diminished  day  by  day  ;  in 
another  centmy  this  part  of  our  country  will  no  longer  possess  oak 
forests  ;  tliis  inevitable  consummation  must  be  kept  in  view,  and 
we  must  not  waste  such  precious  materials.  About  thirty  years 
ago  Champagne  produced  most  of  our  joineiy  wood  ;  it  has  ceased 
to  do  so,  and  we  have  to  1)iiy  this  material  from  the  foreigner. 
And  supposing  even  that  severe  and  persistent  legislation  and 
an  inteUigent  foresight  should  protect  the  remains  of  our  oak 
forests,  and  that  our  rural  population  itself  shoidd  really  feel  the 
necessity  for  preserving  them ;  the  force  of  cuxumstances  will 
ine\atably  cause  the  diminution  of  these  products  of  the  soil ; 
and  we  may  remark,  en  ixissant,  that  forests  cannot  be  restored  : 
to  make  them  flourish  a  primitive  state  of  the  country  is  necessary, 
if  I  may  so  temi  it,  and  which  a  highly  civilised  state  caimot 
bring  back  without  renouncing  those  veiy  advantages  which 
that  primitive  vii-gin  condition  presents.  When  morasses  have 
been  rendered  salubrious,  water-courses  restricted  to  resfidar 
channels,  and  the  lower  strata  of  a  district  have  been  drained — 
a  state  of  things  which  is  the  necessary  result  of  an  advanced 
civilisation  and  skilful  cultiu'e  of  the  ground,^ — the  conditions 
necessaiy  to  the  floiuisliing  of  forests  are  proportionately  dimi- 
nished ;  and  when  these  conditions  have  been  suppressed  it  is 
beyond  the  power  of  man  to  re-establish  them,  for  that  disorder 
and  neglect  which  in  long  periods  of  calamity  may  destroy  those 
improvements  in  the  soil  which  have  been  mt  reduced  by  civih- 
sation,  never  restore  a  state  of  nature.  To  those  who  have 
travelled  in  the  south  of  France,  not  foUo\\-ing  the  great  roads, 
this  phenomenon  is  painfully  evident.  Countries  which  were 
formerly  covered  with  forests  that  have  been  destroyed  through 
the  improvidence  of  the  inhabitants,  districts  that  have  long- 
been  neglected,  do  not  see  then-  ancient  clothmg  of  verdure 
reappeai-.  Undei'n-ood  and  coarse  grass  have  pennanently 
replaced  the  forests  ;  Nature,  struck  to  the  heart,  cannot  replace 
what  human  impi'ovidence  has  destroyed. 

The  Cevennes,  the  Montagne  Noire,  a  good  part  of  the  Car- 
cassonne district,  and  of  Roussillon  and  Ai'deche,  were  still  covered 
with  oak  forests  in  no  veiy  remote  times.  This  species  of  tree, 
subject  to  destruction  durmg  the  thu'teenth  and  fourteenth 
centuries,  has  almost  entirely  disappeared  from  these  regions, 
and  the  scanty  remains  of  those  ancient  forests  consist  only  of 
clusters  of  stunted  growths  and  briers  fit  for  nothing  but  fagots. 

We  should  therefore  save  our  few  oak  forests  for  indispensable 
uses,  employ  them  careftdly  for  pui'poses  for  which  such  materials 
are  absolutely  necessary, — for  our  nav^-  and  for  manufactiu-ing 
uses.  However  little  scope  we  allow  to  anticipation  or  however 
httle  we  may  cai'e  for  the  futiu'e  prosperity  of  oiu-  coiuitry,  we 


334  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

cannot  but  see  with  deep  regret  the  employnient  for  purposes 
of  no  serious  utility,  perhaps  for  very  trifling  ones,  woods  which 
no  human  power  or  wealth  can  restore  when  lost. 

Similar  remarks  do  not  apply  to  u'on :  iron  mines  are 
inexhaustible  ;  at  any  rate  they  will  furnish  the  human  race  with 
materials  as  long  as,  in  all  probabihty,  it  will  exist  on  the  planet. 
Besides,  while  the  destruction  of  forests  ruins  a  country,  the 
manufacture  of  u'on  enriches  it,  for  it  requii'es  an  industrial 
development  and  an  amount  of  labour  which  is  the  equivalent  of 
wealth.  When  a  tree  is  cut  dowai  there  is  an  absolute  loss,  for 
it  will  probably  never  be  replaced  by  a  similar  one.  But  the 
manufacture  of  a  bar  of  iron  has  caused  no  loss  to  the  soil,  and 
has  no  value  except  in  virtue  of  the  labour  wloich  its  production 
has  necessitated.  What  it  is  sold  for  is  the  product  of  labour 
paid  for,  that  is  to  say,  it  represents  a  portion  of  the  wealth 
of  the  country.  The  more  such  bars  are  demanded,  the 
more  the  prosperity  of  the  country  which  supplies  them  is 
increased.  The  more  timber  is  cut  down  in  a  forest  the  greater 
risk  we  run  of  destroying  a  species  of  wealth  wliich  we  should 
not  expend  except  in  cases  of  absolute  necessity  ;  for  it  is  not  in 
the  power  of  man  to  restore  it.  In  whichever  way  we  consider 
it,  the  use  of  iron  in  buildmgs  is  henceforth  obligatory.  It  is' 
dictated  by  the  necessity,  more  and  more  imperative,  of  preserving 
oiu-  oak,  and  by  considerations  of  real  economy,  if  we  thoroughly 
study  the  advantages  of  iron  in  point  of  hardness,  durability,  and 
incombustibility. 

Without  assuming  that  all  the  problems  in  reference  to  it 
have  been  solved,  we  have  shown  how  iron  could  be  more 
frequently  and  more  rationally  used  in  private  architecture. 
We  must  finish  our  remarks.  While  in  the  present  day,  in 
the  great  towns  of  France,  and  especially  in  Paris,  floorings  of 
iron  are  constructed,  this  material  has  not  been  so  generally 
adopted  for  roofing.  Thanks  to  double  T-irons  it  is  very  easy  to 
lay  an  iron  floor.  The  construction  of  roofs  requires  a  little 
more  care  and  study.  Is  this  the  reason  why  iron  roofing  is 
comparatively  rare  ?  I  am  inclined  to  think  so.  We  have  not 
found,  as  in  the  case  of  flooring,  a  commodious  and  simple  formula, 
— a  practical  appliance  which  can  be  adopted  in  all  cases.  Trials 
have  been  made  and  recourse  has  lieen  had  to  all  sorts  of 
expedients  ;  in  particular,  wood  is  constantly  combuied  with  kon, 
if  only  for  the  raftering,  in  the  roofing  of  private  houses,  and 
even  of  pubHc  buildmgs.  I  remarked  above  that  an  excellent, 
practical,  and  economical  plan,^thatof  usmg  iron  laths  suitable  for 
carrying  tiles  or  slates  fastened  with  hooks  had  been  adopted  some 
eight  years  since,  but  that,  through  considerations  of  no  creditable 
kind,  this  system  had  not  been  emjiloyed  for  the  roofing  of  some 


LECTURE  XVIII.  335 

public  buildings  erected  since  that  date,  and  that  this  strange 
prejudice  on  the  pait  of  some  official  architects  agamst  using 
apphances  discovered  or  apphed  by  bretlu-en  of  the  craft,  less 
official  in  then-  estimation,  contributed  to  the  destruction  of  a 
part  of  the  wing  of  the  Louvre  on  the  Quay  of  the  Seine.  It  is 
to  be  presumed  that  this  prejudice  still  continues,  and  that  the 
same  architects  will  reconstruct  tliis  roofing  by  mingling  as 
before  rafters  and  battens  of  wood  with  the  main  framing  of  iron  ; 
though  they  risk  seeing  fii'e  spreading  from  building  to  buildhig 
through  the  presence  of  combustible  materials  which  might  be  so 
easily  dispensed  ^\'ith.  But  they  think  it  proper  to  say  "  Perish 
all  the  pubhc  edifices  of  Paris,  and  the  treasvu'es  they  contain, 
rather  than  admit  the  value  of  a  method  of  constiiiction  that 
has  been  invented  and  applied  outside  the  sanctum  of  the  true 
guardians  of  the  sublime  art." 

Not  only  does  it  seem  probable  that  iron  lathing '  is  destined 
to  replace  wooden  raftering  and  battens,  but  it  would  introduce 
novel  combinations  in  hon-framing.  In  fact  tliis  system  has  the 
advantage  of  gi\Tng  perfect  ligidity  and  cohesion  to  roofing- 
surfaces  and  thus  greatly  contributing  to  their  stabihty.  Thanks 
to  -the  use  of  this  lathing,  the  weight  of  the  principal  parts  may 
be  lessened  ;  and  though  it  costs  more  than  ordinaiy  battens,  it 
allows,  if  intelligently  used,  of  a  compensation  in  virtue  of  the 
diminished  weight  of  the  main  pieces.  In  the  systems  now 
employed,  whether  of  wood  framing  or  mixed  wood  and  ii'on, 
the  rafterinof  is  a  dead  weiffht  which  does  not  contribute  to  the 
stabihty  of  the  work,  which  is  laid  in  fact  only  to  bear  the 
metal,  slate,  or  tile  covering,  and  the  lath  and  plaster  ceilings 
of  the  stories  just  beneath  the  roofing.  The  timbers  enclosed 
in  this  plaster,  and  subjected  to  the  great  heat  caused  by  the 
sun's  action,  and  to  the  dampness  of  the  atmosphere,  decays 
very  soon,  and  afibrd  only  a  precarious  closing ;  so  that  beneath 
such  roofing  one  is  stifled  vdth  heat  in  siunmer  and  fi'ozen  in 
^vinter.  Roofing  of  mingled  iron  and  wood  usually  requires  a 
comphcated  system  of  fastening,  which  must  be  managed  to  a 
great  extent  on  the  spot,  thus  requiring  a  long  time.  After  the 
blacksmith's  work  comes  that  of  the  carpenter  and  the  slater. 
To  fasten  the  wooden  rafters  to  this  hon  framing  very  insufficient 
expedients  are  often  adopted,  and  mishaps  ai'e  unavoidable. 

If,  on  the  contraiy,  we  adopt  a  system  studied  beforehand, 
applicable  to  every  case,  and  which  can  be  completely  arranged 
in  the  workshop,  more  regidar  workmanships  is  secured,  and  a 
great  saving  of  time  in  the  work  to  be  done  in  the  buUduig  itself 
The   following   specimens  of  arrangements   tend  to  exemplify 

'  The  patent  of  this  lathing — a  very  remarkable  specimen  of  which,  and  whose  merits 
were  rewarded  with  a  medal,  was  exhibited  in  1867 — belongs  to  M.  Lachambre,  contractor 
for  blacksmiths  work. 


336 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


this  : — Let  figure  13  be  a  portion  of  rooting  A  b,  at  an  angle  of 
45'  on  a  building  40  feet  wide.  The  front  walls  having  been 
built,  and  the  division  walls  or  ironframed  partitions  arranged 
to  receive  the  parts  of  the  flooring  and  fireplaces,  bemg,  according 
to  the  custom  at  Paris,  about  20  feet  apart.  The  length  A  b  may 
be  accurately  ascertained  beforehand,  as  also  that  of  the  ridges. 


' ' '  ■  I ' 


Fig.  13. — Coustiuctiou  of  Iron  Roulint; 


Nothing  more  is  needed  than  to  fix  in  place  the  ridge-piece  of 
plate  and  angle-iron  (see  the  detail  d)  crowning  the  cross-walls. 
At  the  workshop  are  prepared  frames  about  6^  ft.  long, 
each  with  a  breadth  of  5  ft.  10  in.  at  least,  or  6^  feet  at  most. 


LECTURE  XVin.  337 

These  frames  receive  each  theii-  lathing.  Their  sides  are  formed 
of  plate-iron  from  7  to  8  inches  wide,  with  a  thickness  of  \  of 
an  inch,  and  an  L-iron  inside  on  the  upper  edge  (see  detail  e). 
These  portions  are  joined  by  means  of  angle-plates  projecting 
below,  figured  at  G ;  plates  whose  functions  we  shall  point  out. 
The  frames  in  question  brought  to  the  building  are  joined  with 
bolts  in  fours,  for  the  length  of  the  roof  slope,  and  oifer  a  rigid 
surface  which  may  be  hoisted  with  a  pair  of  shears.  The  first 
row  of  fi-ames  fixed,  the  second  is  placed,  which  is  bolted  to  the 
first  (see  the  drawing  r).  Each  of  these  frames  has  a  rafter  H  in 
the  centre,  consisting  of  a  single  T-iron,  the  flanges  uppermost. 
The  lathingf  i  is  fixed  to  these  flano-es  and  to  the  L-irons  of  the 
frames.  This  combination  of  foiur  frames  forming  one  piece  rests 
at  A  on  the  gutter,  as  the  detail  E  shows,  and  is  bolted  at  B, 
under  the  ridge,  as  indicated  in  detail  d.  As  the  two  parts 
prop  each  other,  they  might  in  strictness  do  without  the  ridge, 
wliich  is  only  put  there  to  facilitate  the  laying,  and  to  obviate 
the  tendency  to  spreadmg,  and  consequently  to  the  thrust  which 
might  be  produced  between  one  division  wall  and  another. 

Let  us  examine  the  method  according  to  which  these  frames 
are  combined,  a  method  which  renders  them  absolutely  conjoined 
with  each  other,  and  makes  a  portion  of  roofing  as  large  as  we 
choose  to  imagine  one  single  piece  rigid  in  all  du'ections. 

Fioure  14  shows  at  A  the  fastenino-  of  the  angles  of  the  frame 
in  elevation,  and  at  b  the  fastening  of  the  intermediate  rafters 
with  the  plates  of  the  transverse  partitions  of  these  frames. 
The  angle-jslates  c  consist  of  2)ieces  of  iron  f  ths  of  an  inch  thick, 
bent  as  shown  in  the  perspective  detail  G,  which  figures  in 
sejiaration  the  four  frames  which  have  to  be  joined  by  these 
angle-irons.  That  the  locking  up,  on  which  the  solidity  of  the 
whole  system  depends,  may  be  complete,  the  heads  of  the  rivets 
must  not  render  it  imperfect  by  resting  on  each  other.  The 
joinings  are  therefore  isolated  as  indicated  at  a,  the  mterval  beuig 
furnished  in  the  direction  of  the  length  with  plates  or  cusliions 
h,  and  m  the  transverse  direction  with  the  two  cushions  c. 
Moreover,  below  the  L-iron  small  wedges  are  placed,  as  seen  at 
A,  to  secure  the  tight  fitting  of  the  upper  part.  That  the  fittmg 
may  be  absolutely  tight,  especially  at  the  extremity  of  the  angle 
plates,  it  is  desirable  to  wrap  the  cushions  in  coarse  paper 
thoroughly  coated  with  white  or  red  lead  putty.  The  rigidity 
of  the  whole  system  depends,  in  foct,  on  the  complete  locking 
up  of  the  bolts  at  the  angle  of  the  frames.  Some  bolts  (two  on 
the  sides,  and  two  at  the  angle-irons  of  the  rafters)  should  also 
contribute  to  the  firmness  of  the  frames.  A  portion  of  the 
roofing  thus  prepared  in  the  workshop  may  be  very  quickly 
fixed  in  place,  and  the  slatei-s  will  immediately  follow  the  black- 

VOL.  II.  Y 


338 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


Fig.  14.— Details  of  Iron  Roofing. 


LECTURE  XVIII.  339 

smith's  work  ;  for  as  the  fmmes  bear  their  lathing,  and  are  all 
of  equal  dimensions  in  the  same  piece  of  roofing,  the  lathing 
will  fit  end  to  end  without  trouble.  The  section  of  these  iron 
laths  is  drawn  at  E  half  size ;  and  they  are  placed  full  4  inches 
apart  (the  length  of  the  slating  lap) ;  they  are  furnished  with 
two  flanges,  the  upper  one  higher  than  the  other  by  Jth  of  an 
inch,  to  lodge  the  head  of  the  slates,  ejich  kept  in  place  by  a 
copper  hook.  This  system  of  slating,  wliich  has  been  tried  for 
fifteen  years,  has  proved  very  satisfactory  :  the  slates  laid  in  this 
way  resist  the  most  violent  gusts  ;  their  laying  and  removal  in 
parts  or  as  a  whole  is  easily  and  quickly  accomplished,  and  to 
replace  one  or  more  broken  slates  no  nails  or  new  hooks  are 
necessary,  and  any  workman  can  execute  repairs  at  once.  The 
laths  being  each  3  feet  or  3  feet  3  mches  in  bearing,  do  not  bend 
even  under  the  weight  of  a  man,  and  serve  as  ladder-rounds  for 
the  slaters.  These  laths  are  fastened  by  screws  to  the  L-irons 
and  intermediate  rafters  ;  the  head  of  these  screws  is  clear  of  the 
slates  in  consequence  of  the  projection  of  the  lower  flange.  It 
should  be  understood  that  wedges  xirths  of  an  inch  m  thickness 
isolate  these  laths  from  the  L-irons  and  rafters,  to  leave  room 
for  the  copper  hooks.  If  we  wish  to  ced  the  roof  inside,  it 
will  sufiice  to  place  bars  of  flat-iron  edgeways  instead  of  the 
longitudinal  cushions  h,  for  all  the  part  of  the  roofing  that  has 
to  be  ceded,  as  marked  at  p,  figure  13;  to  join  these  bars  by 
iron  braces  and  cramps,  and  to  fill  in  this  under  framework 
with  plaster. 

While  this  system  of  frames  can  be  apphed  to  straight  roofs, 
it  is  still  better  adapted  for  polygonal  roofs,  as  the  frames  thus 
form  a  kind  of  arch,  fig.  15.  The  drawing  A  gives  a  section  of 
half  a  polygonal  roof,  covering  a  building  40  feet  wide ;  the 
sketch  B  its  exterior  front  with  the  dormer  windows,  skylights, 
and  lathing.  It  will  be  readily  understood  how  these  dormer 
windows  c,  of  thin  plate- iron,  can  be  fastened  on  the  roof  frames 
so  as  not  to  requhe  any  additional  labour  or  loss  of  time  in  putting 
in  place.  And  similarly  as  regards  the  skylight  D.  The  coupling 
plates  F  and  G  may  clip  the  floor  joists  if  thought  desirable,  which 
will  then  form  tie-beams.  But  for  the  flooring  at  the  level  F  it  is 
evidently  more  advantageous  to  bed  the  floor  joists  in  the  walls 
or  u'on  iron-framed  cross  partitions.  It  does  not  seem  necessary 
to  insist  further  on  this  method  of  roofing,  which  will  be  found 
very  advantageous ;  for  though  its  preparation  in  the  workshop 
requires  care  and  considerable  time,  the  work  is  straightforwai'd, 
aU  the  parts  being  alike  ;  and  there  is  a  great  saving  of  labour 
in  the  building  itself,  since  the  whole  can  be  quickly  raised  into 
^jlace,  and  there  is  no  need  for  fitting  or  retouching  many  of  the 
parts,  as  is  the  case  with  the  present  methods.     At  a  is  seen 


340 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


the   section    of    the   underceilmg,    which    leaves    the    roofing 
independent. 

While  it  is  necessary  for  our  architects  to  make  themselves 
quickly  acquainted  with  the  methods  of  construction  which  the 
progress  of  manufacturing  industry  facilitates,  there  is  another 
point  that  should  not  be  neglected  :  the  judicious  use  of  these 
appliances  as  influenced  by  conditions  of  climate  and  provmcial 


usages. 


f£aAflD£TflLS 


\ 


Fig.  15. — Iron  Roofing. 


From  the  moment  when  building  at  Paris  began  to  exhibit 
a  somewhat  factitious  development, — the  notion  of  an  entire 
reconstruction  having  got  into  people's  heads, — all  the  chief 
towns  of  the  Dej^artments  fancied  tliemselves  bound  to  follow 
its  example.  In  all  our  great  cities  nothing  has  been  thought 
of  for  the  last  fifteen  years,  but  the  opening  of  new  streets 
and  boulevards,  and  (takmg   the  great  rented  house  of  Paris 


LECTURE  XVIII.  341 

as  their  type)  builders  have  begun  to  erect,  in  the  North 
and  South  alike,  structures  just  hke  those  we  have  seen  raised 
along  our  thoroughfares.  At  Marseilles,  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  the  port  La  Joliette,  speculators  have  built  Parisian  houses 
which  are  uninhabitable,  and,  in  fact,  uninhabited.  But  what 
suits  one  climate  is  certainly  unsuitable  to  another.  For 
three-fourtlis  of  the  year  in  Paris  the  days  are  hazy  and  the 
temperature  moderate.  Violent  winds  are  rare,  and  so  is 
excessive  heat.  In  such  conditions  of  climate  niimerous  and 
large  windows  are  required,  and  walls  adapted  to  resist  damp 
and  moderate  atmospheric  distiu'bances.  It  is  otherwise  at 
Marseilles,  Toulon,  and  our  southern  cities  generally.  There 
high  winds  are  frequent,  and  terrible  in  their  strength  ;  the  heat 
of  the  sun  is  such  that  special  precautions  are  needed  for 
protection  agamst  it ;  and  pure  and  vivid  light  has  an  intensity 
such  that  a  very  small  opening  is  sufficient  to  light  an  apartment. 
Efficient  shelter,  streets  comparatively  narrow,  powerful  means 
of  ventilation  on  occasion,  good  closings  for  the  windows  to 
protect  the  inliabitants  from  the  mistral,  and  walls  which  neither 
the  sun's  rays  nor  the  damp  of  the  sea-winds  can  penetrate, 
shade  and  tranquil  air,  are  the  chief  desiderata.  It  is  evident 
that  a  Parisian  house  by  no  means  fulfils  these  requirements. 
Yet  even  in  Algiers  buildings  are  erected  like  those  of  our 
Rue  de  RivoU.  It  would  be  difficult  to  push  to  a  more  ridiculous 
extent  the  mania  for  imitation  in  the  teeth  of  conditions  of 
climate.  The  poorest  Algerine  house  is  more  suitable  as  a 
habitation  for  that  locality  than  are  these  Parisian  importations, 
in  which  there  is  no  efficient  protection  against  wind  or  sun,  or 
dust  or  damp,  or  cold,  which  is  sometimes  pretty  sharp  on  the 
northern  coast  of  Africa. 

But  who  cares  to  direct  the  attention  of  our  young  architects 
to  questions  of  this  kind  ? 

France  is  not  the  only  European  country  that  has  abandoned 
the  methods  which  a  due  consideration  of  the  locality  suggests. 
Italy,  Spain,  and  even  Germany, — wdiich  presumes  that  it  can 
reason  better  than  any  other  ;  and  which,  hke  the  ancient  people 
of  Israel,  possesses  an  illumination  and  Deity  of  its  own, — 
and  Switzerland,  have  all  on  many  occasions  laid  aside  traditions 
established  by  a  lengthened  observation  of  conditions  of  climate, 
to  adopt  an  architecture  which  is  in  every  case  inconvenient 
and  false  on  principle,  though  Classic,  as  is  alleged.  England 
perhaps  alone  has  escaped  this  infatuation  for  certain  common- 
place classic  forms  in  domestic  architecture.  But  the  English 
are  and  will  always  continue  to  be  a  people  eminently  practical ; 
and  if  they  do  not  make  pretensions  to  carry  the  art  of  i-easoning 
as  far  as  the  Germans,  they  proceed  mstinctively  after  a  practical 


Zi-2 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


IG 


Jiii/i^/ie' 


F,a.  16. -Sheltered  FroDts  of  Old  Houses  iu  Geneva. 


LECTURE  XVIII.  343 

and  correct  method.  Good  sense  takes  the  lead  among  them, 
and  the  pedantry  of  the  Germans  is  unknown.  London  houses 
are  not  generally  handsome,  but  their  plainness  is  not  associated 
with  pretentiousness.  Their  interiors  are  convenient,  and 
perfectly  well  arranged  in  respect  of  the  needs  of  their  occupants 
and  the  conditions  of  the  climate.  It  is  not  so  with  the  houses 
in  Berlin ;  even  in  the  private  houses  of  the  capital  of  the 
GeiTQan  Empire,  we  find  certain  concessions  made  to  pseudo- 
classical  taste  which  satisfies  neither  the  requirements  of  art  nor 
local  usages,  nor  the  exigencies  of  a  rigorous  climate.  There 
is  pedantry  in  the  buildings  of  Germany,  whether  public  or 
private,  as  there  mvariably  is  in  tlie  productions  of  the  Northern 
Germanic  peoples,  and  in  those  sterling  qualities  for  which  they 
take  full  credit,  and  which  no  one  just  at  this  moment  is  in  a 
position  to  dispute. 

Virtues  which  assert  themselves  backed  bv  twelve  himdred 
thousand  men,  and  artillery  in  proportion,  and  by  conflagrations 
of  towns  and  villages,  cannot  be  disputed,  unless  those  who 
challenge  them  have  twelve  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  ready 
to  sustain  the  controversy. 

The  city  of  Geneva  once  possessed  houses  admirably  adapted 
to  the  particular  climate  of  the  country.  At  Geneva  the 
exti-emes  of  temperature  succeed  each  other :  the  cold  is  often 
very  sharp  and  rigorous  there  during  several  months ;  the 
summer  is  generally  very  hot  ;  the  storms  of  wind  are  frequent 
and  severe ;  the  snow  driven  by  violent  gusts  accumulates  in 
that  city  sometimes  to  more  than  a  yard  in  dej^th. 

The  ancient  houses  I  refer  to,  and  of  which  some  two  or 
three  remain, — if  they  were  not  destroyed  by  the  last  fire, — 
consist  of  a  kuid  of  wooden  scaflblding  fronting  a  wall  in  masonry. 

This  scaffolding,  figui'e  16,  forms  a  portico  rismg  as  high  as  the 
roof,  wliich  it  supports.  The  shops  and  the  different  stories  of 
the  house  are  thus  completely  sheltered  from  the  violent  gusts 
of  wind,  and  from  the  sun,  and  the  front  walls  can  be  kept  dry  ; 
the  sleet  can  never  beat  against  the  window  ]ianes.  The 
thoroughfare  is  not  obstructed,  and,  thanks  to  the  height  of  the 
portico,  air  and  Ught  are  never  wanting.  This  singular  style  of 
structure  continues  the  traditions  of  the  mountain  dwelling,  with 
its  external  timber-work  affording  galleries  at  each  story,  and 
forming  a  shelter.  But  such  an  arrangement  must  evidently  be 
limited  to  a  country  where  fir-wood  is  abundant.  In  the  present 
day  Geneva  builds  houses  like  those  they  build  at  Lyons,  which 
are  Uke  those  of  Paris.  Since  the  seventeenth  century  those 
primitive  arrangements  which  had  been  adopted  In  most  of  the 
cities  of  France  and  Europe,  in  conformity  with  the  climate  and 
local  customs,  have  been  gradually  disappearing. 


344  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

Has  Art  gained  anytliing  by  this  uniformity  1  or  would  not 
an  epoch  in  which  so  much  is  said  about  "  distinctive  nationality" 
and  "  autonomy,"  be  the  time  for  each  coimtry  to  resume 
those  architectural  forms  which  suit  its  habits  and  climate '{ 
And  would  not  this  also  be  the  time  for  architects  to  betake 
themselves  to  the  study  of  those  local  conditions,  and  conform 
their  plans  to  them,  forgetting  for  a  while  Vignole,  Palladio,  and 
the  palaces  of  Rome,  which  for  the  most  part  have  never  been 
inhabited  or  habitable  ;  and,  as  regards  ancient  art,  to  give  their 
attention  to  the  good  sense  which  directed  the  builders,  whether 
public  or  private  buildings  were  in  question,  rather  than  to  the 
external  forms  ?  To  these  questions  1  know  that  no  answer  will 
be  attempted :  our  architects  wall  content  themselves  with 
mvoking  "high  art,"  and  "  sesthetics  ;"  but  we  shall  not  thereby 
be  better  or  more  wholesomely  housed,  vmless  the  public  in 
this,  as  it  has  done  in  many  other  matters,  takes  the  thing  in 
hand,  and  concerns  itself  with  a  question  in  which  it  has  a  real 
interest. 


LECTURE  XIX. 


DOMESTIC  ARCHITECTURE. — COUNTRY  HOUSES. 

THOUGH  the  pyramidal  principle  may  be  suitable  for  some 
kind  of  biiQdings,  it  is  inajDplicable  to  ordinary  habita- 
tions, as  also  to  various  buildings  for  the  use  of  the  pubhc,  such 
as  market-halls,  assembly-rooms,  etc. 

That  which  is  essentially  recpiisite  for  a  dwelling  is  a  space 
amply  protected  by  the  most  efficacious  and  simple  means. 

The  prmciple  of  construction  in  a  dwelling-house  in  a  northern 
climate  is  comprised  m  this  form,  fig.  1, — four  walls  and  a  roof 
with  double  slope. 


Fig.  1.— Overhanging  Roof. 


FiG.  2.— Hetreating  Roof. 


The  adoption  within  the  last  half-century,  in  our  large  towns, 
of  an.  arrangement  such  that  the  highest  story  is  thro%^ai  back 
from  the  line  of  the  front  walls,  fig.  2,  may  perhaps  be  justified 
by  the  necessity  of  allowmg  sun  and  air  to  reach  the  ground  in 
comparatively  narrow  streets  ;  but  it  is  clear  that  this  retreating 
story  is  the  occasion  of  the  roofs  not  sheltermg  the  front  walls, 
and  of  damage  to  the  stories  below  from  rain  and  snow  ;  for  wide 
thoroughfares  it  is  not  less  manifest  that  the  arrangement 
presented  in  figure  3  would  be  much  more  desirable. 

We  spoke  in  the  preceding  Lecture  of  the  advantages  that 
might  be  derived  from  adopting  corbelled  projections  in  the  case 


346 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


of  houses  bordering  very  wide  thoroughfares,  and  we  shall  not 
return  to  the  subject. 

But   while   these  advantages,    which  are    evident   even  in 
reference  to  town  dwelhngs,  cannot  be  secui-ed  in  all  cases, 


%.ciituunoK 


Fio.  3. — Tho  Dwelling— Elementary  Principles. 

particularly  where  the  admission  of  air  and  light  into  streets, 
narrow  as  compared  with  the  height  of  the  houses  is  in  question, 
there  is  nothing  to  prevent  our  avaihng  ourselves  of  them  to 
the  full  in  houses  built  m  the  countiy. 

No  one  can  doubt  that  a  dwelling  presentmg  the  outline  A, 
fig.  4,  will  resist  atmospheric  effects  and  shelter  the  inmates  more 
effectually  than  one  whose  outline  is  such  as  Ls  showTi  in  b. 


Fig.  4. — Tlie  Dwelling — Elementary  Principles. 

There  are  climates  presenting  conditions  so  adverse  to  the 
security  of  habitations  that  man  is  obhged  to  adopt  special 
means  of  protection  against  them.  Thus,  for  instance,  in  the 
higher  valleys  of  the  Alps,  where  during  four  or  five  months  of 
the  year  the  snow  is  more  than  a  yard  deep,  the  inhabitants 
have  been  obliged  to  take  extraorcHnaiy  precautions  to  defend 
themselves  and  their  household  stores  against  its  invasions. 
We  therefore  see  chalets  raised  on  four  blocks  of  stone  more  than 
a  yard  high,  thus  raising  the  doorsteps  above  the  level  of  the 
snows,  and  allowing  the  latter  to  melt  without  penetrating  the 
dwellmg  ;  or  j^erhaps  consisting  of  a  ground- floor  in  solid  masonry, 
on  which  the  inhabited  story  is  built,  projecting  beyond  the 
basement,  and  consisting  of  a  timber  construction,  or  rather  of 


LECTURE  XIX.  347 

trunks  of  trees  placed  one  above  the  other  in  courses  and  dove- 
tailed together  at  the  angles.  Centimes  pass  away,  but  the 
style  of  these  buildings  undergoes  no  alteration,  because  in  the 
districts  in  question  the  dictates  of  clunate  are  much  more 
imj>erious  than  the  prejuchces  of  the  schools  could  be.  We  may 
reasonably  suppose  that  in  passmg  the  cols  of  the  Alps  Hannibal 
saw  chalets  similar  to  those  which  are  still  built  in  the  passes 
of  those  mountains.  There,  at  any  rate,  the  \'illa  of  the  environs 
of  Paris  or  the  Enghsh  subiu'ban  cottage  will  never  penetrate, 
as  they  have  managed  to  do  in  less  inclement  regions,  though 
in  defiance  of  local  conditions.  For  do  we  not  see  "suburban 
cottages "  at  Cannes,  "  pa\ahons "  ^vith  slate-roofed  tiurets  in 
the  coimtry  roimd  Marseilles,  chalets  (constiiicted  of  planks,  it  is 
true,  attached  to  i-ubble-built  walls)  in  the  environs  of  Paris  ? 
The  good  people  who  live  in  these  .  .  .  "follies"  are,  it  is  true, 
very  indifferently  lodged  there ;  they  are  baked  in  the  summer 
or  frozen  in  the  autumn,  and  have  to  pay  heavy  bills  for  repairs 
every  spring,  wliile  they  have  no  other  compensation  than  the 
pleasiure  of  having  transported  a  house  from  the  banks  of  the 
Seine  to  Marseilles,  one  from  the  environs"  of  Loudon  to  Cannes, 
or  one  from  Switzerland  to  Paris.  We  are  boimd  in  coiu-tesy 
to  suppose  that  the  satisfaction  really  compensates  them  for  the 
want  of  a  o:ood  salubrious  and  comfortable  dwellinsf. 

And  while  these  are  certain  conditions  of  climate  which  it  is 
desirable  to  take  accoimt  of  in  towns,  such  conditions  are  stUl 
more  imperative  in  the  country,  where  isolated  buildings  are 
particularly  exposed  to  the  inclemency  of  the  weather ;  where  it 
is  difficult  to  have  repairmg  done,  or  at  any  rate  where  it  must 
often  be  delayed,  and  where,  if  a  dwelling  becomes  uninhabitable, 
the  last  resort — a  furnished  lodgmg — is  out  of  the  question.  Yet 
it  would  seem  as  if  during  the  last  few  year's,  the  indispensable 
requisites  of  a  habitation  in  the  coiuitry  had  been  in  many  cases 
quite  disregarded. 

One  woidd  suppose  on  seeing  some  of  these  dwellings,  that 
their  sole  object  was  to  adorn  the  landscape,  and  gratify  toiu'ists, 
like  those  pasteboard  %Tllages  which  the  courtiers  of  the  Empr&ss 
Catherine  had  stuck  up  diuring  her  journey  thi-ough  the  steppes 
of  Russia.  When  the  sun  shines  without  being  too  oppressive, 
when  the  nights  are  mild  and  tranquil,  when  there  is  neither  i-ain 
nor  wind,  the  plank-built  chalets  on  the  shores  of  the  Channel, 
the  pasteboard  chateaux  on  the  shore  of  the  ^lediterranean, 
and  the  "  cottages  "  of  Arcachon,  are  fau-ly  habitable  dwelhngs  ; 
but  when  heat,  tempest,  mistral,  or  fog  supervenes,  we  long  to 
be  back  in  the  httle  inn  of  the  neighbouring  town,  though  that 
was  no  palace. 

It  must  be  imderstood  that  I  am  speaking  here  exclusively 


348  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

of  ordinary  houses  in  the  country,  not  of  good  substantial  manor- 
houses  or  chateaux  whose  inmates  are  agreeably  housed.  It  is 
ordinary  coiuitry-houses  that  I  have  specially  in  view,  because 
these  are  niunerous,  and  the  taste  for  buildings  of  this  kind  has 
been  very  widely  diffused  within  the  last  half-century.  Yet  such 
is  the  disorder  prevailing  in  the  architectural  domain,  and  such 
ai'e  the  odd  or  puerile  fancies  of  those  who  buUd  houses,  that  it 
is  only  a  very  few  buildings  which  fully  satisfy  the  requirements 
of  a  country  dwelling  of  moderate  dimensions. 

There  are  two  different  ways  of  meeting  these  requu-ements, 
one  of  which  I  shall  call  the  English,  and  the  other  the  French 
method. 

The  Eneflish  method  consists  in  uniting^  small  blocks  of 
buildings,  each  containing  one  or  two  apartments,  according  to 
the  taste  or  convenience  of  the  owner — often  with  a  ground-floor 
only,  without  any  regard  to  symmetry  ;  each  of  these  blocks 
being  of  such  a  height  as  suits  the  apartment  it  contains,  with 
windows  accordmg  to  the  aspect  preferred,  and  communications 
more  or  less  advantageously  contrived.  In  such  a  plan  as  this 
for  a  dwelling  in  the  country  we  see  the  impress  of  that  practical 
good  sense  which  distinguishes  the  Enghsh. 

The  French  method  consists  in  building  a  pavilion,  that  is,  a 
concrete  symmetrical  block,  in  which  the  various  services,  instead 
of  bemg  scattered  as  on  the  English  plan,  are  united  in  a 
succession  of  stories,  under  the  same  roof.  This  is  an  old 
traditional  method  in  France,  and  which  has  its  advantages. 
The  genuine  French  country-house  is  the  French  chdteau  de 
jplaisance  of  the  sixteenth  century  in  mmiature,  as  the  English 
"  cottage "  is  the  English  manor-house  of  the  middle  ages  in 
miniature,  with  its  blocks  of  buildings  variously  placed  accord- 
ing to  the  convenience  of  the  inliabitant.  Some  French  pro- 
prietors have  indeed  endeavoured  to  introduce  the  Enghsh  style, 
but  I  do  not  think  that  these  dislocated  arrangements  accord  with 
our  habits,  unless  these  should  change,  which  is  hardly  to  be 
expected.  The  English  method  preserves,  even  amidst  relations 
of  close  intunacy,  a  kind  of  independence, — a  personal  isolation 
which  is  very  rarely  to  be  found  among  ourselves.  When 
Frenchmen  find  in  each  other  grounds  of  an  intimate  friendsliip, 
or  fancy  they  do,  they  seem  disposed  to  have  all  things  in  common, 
and  to  make  an  absolute  sacrifice  of  their  individualities  ;  though 
when  intimacies  too  hastily  formed  give  lise  to  disagreements, 
the  quarrels  that  result  are  violent  enough.  This  however  is 
aiot  our  worst  fault,  as  it  has  its  good  side.  But  when  a  family, 
or  even  when  real  friends,  assemble,  it  would  seem  desirable  that 
their  life  m  common  should  be  as  concentrated  as  possible.  The 
more  strictly  observed  the  community  of  habitation  the  better. 


LECTURE  XIX.  349 

For  a  Frenchman  therefore  a  country-house  is  a  kind  of  common 
tent,  whose  inmates  all  observe  the  same  daily  custom.  Among 
ourselves,  life  in  a  country-house  is  regarded  as  lively  and  agree- 
able only  when  all  are  within  reach  of  each  other's  voices,  when 
the  rooms  closely  adjoin,  and  conversation  can  be  candied  on 
through  partitions  or  floorings.  It  will  therefore  be  very  difficult 
to  persuade  Frenchmen  enjoymg  a  retreat  in  the  country  that 
the  best  means  of  keeping  up  a  cordial  understanding  with  each 
other  is  none  other  than  the  avoidance  of  this  enforced  contact 
at  all  hours  of  the  day,  and  the  preservation  of  a  fair  amount  of 
independence.  Of  course  I  do  not  include  exceptional  cases. 
It  is  the  result  of  our  habits  of  hfe  that  the  type  of  a  French 
countiy -house  of  modest  pretensions,  liitherto  at  any  rate,  has 
been,  and  continues  to  be,  what  is  called  a  paviUon.  It  is  for 
the  arcliitect  to  conform  to  the  established  custom,  doing  his 
best  under  the  circumstances,  without  falling  into  vulgar  obse- 
quiousness, and  while  studying  cai'efully  the  real  conditions 
of  the  progranune  as  well  as  those  which  are  concerned  with 
the  salubrity  and  the  thorough  and  easily  available  means  of 
preserving  the  dwelling. 

With  very  few  exceptions,  the  ground-floors  of  houses  in  the 
country  are  sure  to  be  afiected  by  the  dampness  of  the  soil ;  the 
most  scrupulous  precautions  must  therefore  be  adopted  to  avoid 
the  inconvenience.  And  there  is  another  remark  regarding 
health  in  i-eference  to  this  matter,  to  which  I  would  call 
attention. 

We  observe  cottages  and  houses  occujiied  by  peasants,  the 
ground-floor  of  which  is  on  a  level  with  or  even  below  the  ground 
outside,  and  wdth  no  cellars,  yet  whose  inmates  live  to  a  great 
age  without  bemw  even  troubled  with  rheumatism.  But  if  a 
townsman  lives  and  sleeps  in  them  for  a  week,  he  will  suffer  in 
every  joint.  The  inconvenience  is  certainly  unfelt  by  persons 
who  have  been  born  and  bred  in  this  humid  environment ;  but 
it  is  quite  otherwise  with  those  who  have  been  accustomed  to  the 
very  dry  apartments  of  large  towns,  and  who  are  only  tempor- 
arily subjected  to  the  conditions  m  question.  Now,  as  houses 
in  the  country  are  destined  to  be  mhabited  for  only  part  of  the 
year  by  persons  who  pass  the  rest  of  then-  tune  in  large  towns, 
and  who  were  born  there,  they  must  not  be  exposed  to  this 
dangerous  change.  Wlule  seeking  in  the  country  for  a  piu-er 
air  than  that  of  the  cities,  they  must  not  encounter  those  humid 
emanations  to  which  they  have  been  in  no  degree  acciistomed. 
It  cannot  be  doubted  that  a  considerable  part  of  those  rheumatic 
afiections  by  which  many  of  the  dwellers  in  oiu'  cities  are 
afilicted  arises  from  the  too  often  insalubrious  state  of  the  countiy- 
houses  in  which  they  sojourn  in  the  summer.      Although  the 


350  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

bedrooms  are  generally  not  on  the  ground-floor,  the  pai-lours, — 
the  apartments  where  the  day,  and  especially  the  evening,  is 
spent, — are  little  i-aised  above  the  level  of  the  ground  outside. 
The  walls  of  these  rooms  often  throw  out  saltjietre  more  than  a 
yard  above  the  floor,  and  the  painting  has  to  be  renewed  every 
spring.  Who  has  not  observed  ground-floors  in  which  funguses 
spring  up  in  a  night  in  some  corner  or  other  ?  Besides,  the  walls, 
which  are  often  thin  and  wretchedly  built,  are  poorly  or  not  at 
all  protected  from  rainy  winds,  and  these  walls  are  imbued  with 
a  dampness  which  tliey  never  lose,  and  which  they  throw  out  m 
the  interior  during  the  nights  that  follow  warm  days.  In  fact 
we  should  be  better  lodged  in  a  tent. 

With  a  view  to  avoid  these  inconvenient  and  even  dangerous 
contingencies,  the  walls  on  the  side  exposed  to  rainy  winds  are 
in  certain  Northern  countries  covered  with  shingles  or  slates. 
But  the  best  protection— and  that  which  requires  least  repairing — 
is  roofing  projecting  sufficiently  to  prevent  the  rain  from  dashing 
on  the  walls,  and  the  svm  from  shming  too  powerfully  over  the 
whole  of  their  surface  ;  for  a  freestone  wall  even  sixteen  or  twenty 
inches  thick,  which  has  been  greatly  heated  by  the  sun,  if  a 
storm  of  rain  supervenes,  will  be  very  deeply  penetrated  by  the 
water.  The  outside  of  the  moistened  stone  evaporates  rapidly, 
but  that  part  of  the  humidity  which  has  reached  the  middle  of 
tlie  wall  makes  its  way  into  the  interior.  Three  or  four  days 
after  a  violent  storm,  I  have  often  seen  walls  which  outside  had 
become  perfectly  dry  and  dusty  again,  but  whose  inner  side  was 
so  damp  that  the  papering  was  moistened. 

We  must  also  take  account  of  the  nature  of  the  materials 
employed.  In  the  case  of  stone,  the  coarse-grained  hmestones 
ai-e  after  all  the  best ;  those  which,  on  account  of  their  very 
porosity,  diy  most  rapidly  to  a  great  depth.  Sandstone,  on  the 
contrary,  even  when  the  walls  are  thick,  retains  a  considerable 
quantity  of  w.ater,  which  is  constantly  transuding  into  the 
interior.  Very  compact  materials,  e.g.  limestone  of  the  kind 
called  '  cold '  [froides)  ofier  serious  disadvantages  ;  stone  of  this 
kind  is  colder  and  damper  on  the  inside,  the  warmer  the  external 
temperature  is.  Brick  is  in  fact  one  of  the  best  materials  that 
can  be  employed,  especially  if  the  walls  are  thick  enough  for  tlie 
bricks  not  to  pass  through  the  wall  at  any  point.  As  regards 
coatmgs,  mortars  stand  the  weather  much  better  than  plaster, 
but  they  conduct  the  damp  with  much  greater  rapidity.  Mortar 
coatings  ought  to  be  well  sheltered  ;  only  on  this  condition  will 
they  be  well  preserved,  and  if  they  have  been  suitably  treated 
they  are  the  better  for  age. 

In  the  country,  thick  oak,  or  even  deal  framing,  and  showing, 
when  duly  sheltei'ed  and  with  a  filling  up  of  brick,  forms  an 


LECTURE  XIX.  351 

excellent  protection  against  cold,  damp  and  heat,  especially  if 
care  is  taken  to  cover  the  external  facings,  particularly  those  of 
the  horizontal  pieces,  with  shingles  or  slate,  or  even  battens 
placed  one  over  the  other  ;  for  it  is  only  the  horizontal  pieces 
that  retain  the  damp  which  is  arrested  by  their  fibres. 

For  roof  covering,  tiles  are  always  preferable  to  slates,  unless 
the  latter  are  pretty  thick.  I  say  nothing  of  zinc,  which  in  the 
country  is  the  worst  of  all  coverings,  since  it  is  liable  to 
be  damaged  by  wind,  is  difficult  to  repair,  and  does  not  preserve 
the  roof  from  the  effects  of  cold  or  heat. 

The  result  of  these  considerations  is  that,  to  place  a  house  in 
the  country  in  the  best  condition  as  regards  health  and  durabihty, 
it  is  necessary  to  secure  a  dry  and  equal  temperature,  whatever 
be  the  state  of  the  atmosphere  externally.  To  secure  this  residt 
the  essential  pomt  is  to  isolate  the  house  as  far  as  possible  from 
the  external  soil ;  the  second,  to  give  the  walls  as  much  protection 
as  possible,  by  gi^^llg  them  a  sufficient  thickness  and  choosing 
the  materials  for  their  construction  with  due  regard  to  climate 
and  aspect. 

The  conditions  to  be  observed  m  regard  to  windows  are 
difierent  m  the  city  from  what  they  are  in  the  country.  In  a 
city  we  can  rarely  seciu-e  direct  horizontal  lights ;  the  houses  are 
fronted  by  others  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  thoroughfare ; 
consequently  the  ojDenmgs  receive  the  light  at  an  angle  whose 
mean  is  45° ;  it  is  therefore  necessary  to  have  windows  large  in 
projjortion  to  the  size  of  the  apartments,  and  whose  sashes  shall 
obstruct  the  light  as  little  as  possible. 

Besides,  the  wind  rarely  has  a  powerfrd  effect  on  the 
fastenings  ;  the  houses  serve  as  a  screen  to  each  other  ;  the  air 
has  not  the  penetrating  sharpness  of  that  which  is  bi'eathed  in 
the  country.  The  sashes  of  the  windows  may  therefore  be  of 
large  dimensions  in  the  houses  of  a  city.  If  they  suffer  damage 
they  can  be  readily  repaired.  It  is  otherwise  in  the  country  : 
skilful  and  prompt  workmen  are  not  to  be  had ;  wide  glazed 
surfaces  are  therefore  undesirable  ;  it  would  be  better  for  them 
to  be  small,  and  numerous  as  occasion  may  require.  The  Enghsh 
have  quite  understood  this  necessity  in  reference  to  their 
suburban  dwelhngs,  and  their  windows  are  very  conveniently 
arranged.  Even  in  the  glazed  pi'ojections  in  front  of  their  houses, 
they  take  care  to  have  numerous  frames,  so  as  to  be  able  to  open 
them  partially  or  all  at  once  as  may  seem  desirable.  There  were 
many  similar  arrangements  in  French  habitations  down  to  the 
seventeenth  century  ;  but  at  that  epoch  the  rage  for  the  gran- 
diose caused  those  window  frames  to  be  adopted  with  two  leaves 
only,  which  are  so  inconvenient  to  shut  and  open ;  and  which, 
if  on  a  somewhat  large  scale,  are  especially  Uable  to  be  warped 


352  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

under  the  action  of  heat  and  moisture  and  get  out  of  order. 
Wlien  wind  and  heat  prevail,  if  they  are  opened  for  the  sake  of 
air,  it  is  impossible  to  stay  in  the  room  for  the  gusts,  while  if 
they  remain  shut,  one  is  half  stifled.  Small  sashes  are  imperatively 
required  in  country  dwelhngs.  They  should  each  have  a  shutter 
inside  as  a  protection  against  severe  weather  and  an  external 
protection  (sun-blinds)  to  shelter  them  from  the  sun's  rays  and 
to  prevent  violent  gusts  from  driving  hail  or  snow  agamst  the 
panes. 

Warming  apparatuses  {caloriferes)  are  necessary  in  country- 
houses  to  keep  their  interiors  dry  in  the  winter,  and  to  prevent 
the  exhalations  caused  by  thaw ;  but  this  should  be  their  only 
use.  Good  firejjlaces  should  be  provided  in  all  the  apartments  ; 
for  even  in  summer  a  fire  is  often  necessary,  and  is  a  great 
restorative  after  the  fatigues  of  the  field,  and  to  ward  oft'  the 
dangers  of  excessive  perspiration.  The  fireplaces  should  be 
wide,  high,  and  arranged  for  getting  bright  fires  quickly  lighted. 
They  ought  to  be  furnished  with  fire-boards,  so  that  in  winter 
the  moistui'e  of  the  atmosphere  may  not  get  into  the  rooms 
through  the  flues. 

In  the  country  still  more  than  the  city,  the  sonorousness  of 
floors  should  be  avoided.  In  the  city  the  incessant  noises  of  the 
street  prevent  the  ear  fi:om  distinguishmg  sounds  in  the  house 
itself:  it  is  otherwise  in  the  country,  to  which  we  repair  to  find 
quiet,  and  where  the  least  sound  is  audible.  If  the  floor  is  on 
iron  joists,  between  the  filling  in  of  these  and  the  boarded  floor 
an  interval  shovild  be  left  to  isolate  one  from  the  other.  If  the 
flooring  is  of  wood,  besides  the  spaces  between  the  joists,  there 
should  be  a  space  contrived  by  means  of  secondary  joists,  fiUed 
in  with  seaweed  or  rushes  rendered  incombustible  by  immersion 
in  plaster-water.  But  there  is  a  method  which  will  be  suflicient 
of  itself  to  check  the  sonorousness  of  the  floors  almost  entirely. 
Nothiuff  more  is  needed  than  to  attach  bands  of  the  coarse  felt- 
ing — sold  at  a  very  low  price  to  cover  temporary  buildings — 
with  strong  glue  to  the  joists  before  nailing  down  the  floor.  This 
can  scarcely  be  done,  indeed,  in  the  case  of  herring-bone  flooring, 
but  there  is  no  diflBculty  with  those  laid  in  the  English  style ; 
that  is  in  long  boards.  But  I  tliink  it  necessary  to  give  some 
details  respecting  the  construction  of  floorings  in  countiy-dwell- 
ings.  Except  in  the  neighbourhood  of  gi^eat  metal-works,  iron 
floorings  have  hitherto  been  too  costly  in  country  districts ;  besides, 
it  is  impossible  to  find  workmen  there  who  are  able  to  lay  them 
properly  ;  it  would  be  necessary  to  get  them  from  Paris  or  other 
great  centres  :  forges  wovdd  have  to  be  built  for  the  special  pur- 
pose ;  and  all  this  would  involve  expense.  If  a  piece  should  be 
wanting,  there  would  be  delay  in  getting  it.     There  are  few  dis- 


LECTURE  MX. 


303 


tricts  in  France  wliere  there  is  oak  suitable  for  flooring.  In  the 
southern  provinces,  and  in  the  west,  and  part  of"  the  centre,  deal 
only  is  available.  This  kind  of  wood  is  moreover  very  useful 
for  the  pur2)0se,  if  the  wood  is  not  enclosed  in  coatings  of  plaster 
or  mortar,  and  if  mortises  are  avoided,  which  are  not  sufficiently 
secure  in  deal.  I  have  seen  timber-work  in  deal  planking  three 
or  four  centuries  old  which  was  still  in  excellent  condition ;  but 
the  wood  had  been  left  exposed.  Deal  flooring  can  be  made 
very  dm-able  by  means  of  certain  arrangements  which  it  is  worth 
while   to    mention,  and  whose    value    has   been    confirmed    by 


s 


'^<'^zy'<'^^^////y//^/,,.m;()>fg:y/:((f/:m^^^  t      -^aa*e^gas=jgit<^i-- :  :a,<--if  ^a^fe 


m/////:j-l 


Fig.  5. — Flooruii,'3  of  thin  Deal  Joists. 


experience.  Deal  in  large  pieces  is  liable  to  deep  splits,  which 
are  often  even  dangerous.  It  is  therefore  desirable  to  use  it  in 
thin  pieces.  With  joists  of  this  wood  two  inches,  or  even  an 
inch  and  three  quarters  thick,  floors  of  the  greatest  solidity  can 
be  constructed.  To  secure  this  resiUt,  figure  5,  we  need  only 
nail  strips  of  sheet-iron  (one  twenty-fifth  of  an  inch  thick  at 
most)  on  one  side  of  each  joist,  taking  care  to  fold  back  these 
strips  of  sheet-iron  one  inch  wide  on  the  edge  above,  as  shown 
in  the  perspective  drawmg  at  A.  These  strips  should  only  reach 
to  within  an  inch  and  a  half  of  the  lower  edge.     They  niay  be 

VOL.  II.  z 


354  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

readily  pierced  by  a  brad-awl  to  nail  them  to  the  joists.  The 
nails  should  be  two  and  three-quarters  of  an  inch  in  length,  leav- 
ing three-quarters  of  an  inch  for  clenching  on  the  other  side,  as 
shown  in  the  figure  at  a.  As  the  strips  are  not  always  as  long 
as  the  bearings,  the  pieces  must  be  nailed  together,  with  an  over- 
lap of  nearly  four  inches.  Joists  thus  furnished  are  coupled 
together  with  bolts,  the  strips  of  u-on  inside  (see  the  figure  drawn 
to  scale,  section  b).  Strips  of  wood  c  are  nailed  on  the  sides  and 
another  d  beneath.  These  joists,  with  a  space  between  their 
centres  of  sixteen  inches  and  a  bearing  of  nearly  twenty-four 
feet,  can  bear  the  heaviest  weights  a  house  flooring  is  likely  to 
be  required  to  sustain.  On  the  side  strips  are  placed  slabs  of 
plaster  d  from  an  inch  and  a  half  to  two  inches  thick,  or  of  terra- 
cotta or  even  clay  well  beaten,  if  other  materials  are  not  at  our 
disposal.  These  slabs  are  fixed  with  plaster  by  fillets  e  andyi 
On  the  joists  are  placed  E  thin  secondary  joists  nailed  obli<piely 
with  good  wrought  nails,  as  seen  at  g.  Moreover,  from  one  joist 
L  to  another  are  laid  thin  boards  i,  or  reeds,  and  a  thickness  of 
plaster  or  clay  with  fillets  h  along  the  sides.  Then  the  parquet  is 
nailed  on  these  secondary  joists,  the  precaution  mentioned  above 
beinff  used  ajxainst  the  sonorousness  of  the  floor.^  But  for  the 
floorings  of  rooms  it  will  be  necessary  to  arrange  trimmings  for  the 
passage  of  chimneys,  or  for  crossing  the  vacant  spaces  of  windows. 
In  such  cases,  when  using  deal,  tenons  and  mortises  should  be 
avoided,  and  their  place  supplied  by  a  very  simple  and  substantial 
system  of  stirrups,  figure  6.  These  stirrups  are  fonned  of  sti'ips 
of  iron  one-thu'd  of  an  inch  thick  and  about  two  inches  wide.  For 
joists  of  the  size  referred  to  here  each  strip  of  u-on  should  be  three 
feet  and  a  half  long  (see  a).  They  should  be  foi-ged  iiito  all  the 
foldings  indicated  at  a,  so  that  these  strips  may  take  the  form 
drawn  in  perspective  at  B,  and  in  elevation  at  c.  The  notch  e 
made  in  each  joist  receives  the  foot  of  the  stirrup.  Nails  are 
di'iven  in  at  the  side  and  above  (see  b).  The  small  triangles  g 
(see  a)  form  cramps.  When  the  wood  strips  I  have  been  nailed 
beneath,  a  small  triangular  23iece  is  driven  in  at  e  to  close  the 
void.  Stirrups  of  this  kind,  which  are  easy  to  make,  since  they 
are  of  very  thin  iron,  are  much  more  substantial  than  tenons 
and  mortises,  for  they  grasp  the  wood  in  its  whole  depth  and 
force  it  to  support  itself  against  the  trimmer  or  the  trimmer  joist. 
This  plan  may  also  be  adopted  as  a  substitute  for  notching  in 
bearers  along  walls,  unless  these  are  placed  underneath  the  ends 
of  the  joists,  which  is  always  better. 

We  observe,  figure  5,  that  ceilings  thus  constructed  leave 

'  Deal  planks  an  inch  ami  a  half  thick,  strengthened  with  cheeks  of  sheet-iron,  strips  thus 
nailed  ou  the  inside,  at  distances  of  fifteen  inches,  with  a  simple  flooring  an  inch  and  a 
half  thick,  ami  with  a  bearing  of  twenty-six  feet,  have  sustained  enqrmous  weights  of  corn 
unequally  divided. 


LECTURE  XIX. 


353 


the  wood  visible  on  the  lower  side,  which  suiBces  to  secure  it 
from  dry  rot.  The  squares  of  plaster  wliich  form  the  inter- 
joists  may  be  moulded  and  the  terra-cotta  glazed,  if  we  wish  to 
obtain  a  very  briUiant  and  rich  effect. 

The  best  pi-esei-vative  against  damp  on  the  inside  of  walls 
is  wainscoting.  It  entails  expense,  but  very  simple  and  (where 
wood  is  abundant)  cheap  wainscoting  may  be  put  up.  In 
default    of  wainscoting,   canvas   stretched   on    frames,    with    a 


St.  Cvki^^lMJT. 


Fig.  G.—  System  of  Tiimiuiii^'  Joista. 

coating  of  clear  plaster  laid  on  with  a  brush  on  the  wall-side,  Is 
a  good  protection  against  damp.  These  canvases  may  be  pamted 
or  papei'ed. 

If  the  flooring  is  of  wood,  too  much  care  cannot  be  taken  to 
prevent  the  decay  of  the  bearings  of  the  joists  in  the  walls. 
The  most  effectual  means  is  to  avoid  fitting  these  bearings  into 
outer  walls,  unless  the  latter  are  of  timber  framing.     But  if  this 


356 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


is  unavoidable,  it  is  desirable  to  cover  the  end  of  cacli  joist 
with  a  thin  sheet  of  lead  or  zinc,  forming  a  return,  like  a  half- 
box,  and  to  take  particular  care  to  leave  a  space  between  the 
end  of  the  joist  thus  protected  and  the  masonry;  allowing  a 
communication  between  this  void  and  the  spaces  left  between 
the  main  joists  and  the  secondary  joists.  It  is  well  ascertained 
that  the  bearmg  of  a  joist  passing  right  through  a  strong  wall, 
and  exposed  to  the  air  outside,  decays  much  less  rapidly  than 
one  that  is  enclosed ;  the  great  point  therefore  is  to  allow  the 
air  to  reach  them  fi-eely.' 


Fio.  7.— Country  Villa.    Basement  Story. 

In  houses  built  in  the  country  the  chimneys  and  the  flues 
are  frequently  too  little  considered.  It  would  seem  as  if  they 
were  regarded  as  a  matter  of  secondary  importance,  and  few 
architects  study  it  attentively.  A  skilful  arrangement  of  the 
chimney-stacks  so  that  the  flow  of  rain-water  shall  not  be 
impeded,  nor  their  outlets  too  much  exposed  to  the  wind,  so  that 

'  1  have  frequently  observed,  in  peasants'  houses  at  least  a  century  old,  bearings  left 
thus  expcsed  along  the  outside  of  front  walls,  and  which  had  suffered  no  decay,  whereas 
we  constantly  see  joists  that  have  not  been  laid  twenty  years,  whose  bearings  Ijuilt  in  the 
walls  are  thoroughly  rotten. 


LECTURE  XIX.  357 

the  smoke  may  uot  be  beaten  back  into  the  house  by  the  re- 
bound of  the  au"  from  a  higher  roof,  securing  for  the  flues  a 
section  sufficiently  large  in  proportion  to  the  fireplaces,  and  put- 
ting tliem  in  such  position  as  to  prevent  the  house  being  set  on 
fii-e :  these,  and  similar  considerations,  demand  serious  attention. 

It  will  perhaps  be  thought  that  I  am  entering  too  minutely 
into  details  respectmg  the  buUding  of  houses  in  the  country, 
but  my  reason  for  treating  them  so  largely  is,  that  most  of  these 
buildings,  as  they  are  now  constructed,  are  even  more  faidty  in 
respect  of  such  details  than  in  then-  general  arrangements,  which 
usually  reflect  the  tastes  and  requirements  of  the  owners.  The 
architect  cannot  always  be  blnmed  for  the  method  of  cai'rying  out 
a  plan  which  his  client  has  dictated,  and  whose  suitability  he  is 
not  permitted  to  discuss ;  as  it  is  natural  after  all  for  the  pro- 
pnetor  to  claim  the  right  of  arranging  his  dwelling  according 
to  his  own  ideas.  But  in  executing  the  several  parts  of  the 
plan,  the  arcliitect  is,  or  ought  to  be,  free  to  act ;  for  example, 
he  cannot  be  excused  for  arranging  a  chimney-flue  in  such  a  way 
as  that  the  floorings  near  the  fireplace  are  likely  to  take  fire. 
In  such  a  case  he  must  interpose  his  veto  or  renounce  his 
responsiljility,  for  if  the  house  is  burned,  those  faults  of  construc- 
tion which  caused  the  accident  will  be  justly  laid  to  his  charge. 

In  accordance  with  what  we  have  said,  it  would  seem  that 
the  conditions  of  a  dwelling  in  the  country  on  a  modest  scale, 
and  not  affecting  to  be  a  chateau,  might  be  thus  summarised  : 
the  ground-floor,  which  generally  contains  the  apartments  where 
the  family  assemble,  should  be  })rotected  from  the  dampness  of 
the  soil ;  the  walls  should  be  effectually  sheltered  by  the  i-oofing  ; 
the  apartments  should  be  so  disposed  that  a  small  staff" 
of  servants  may  suffice  for  them ;  the  most  salubrious  and 
agreeable  aspects  should  be  selected  ;  complicated  construction 
should  be  avoided,  especially  in  the  roofing,  which  as  far  as 
possible  should  be  Iniilt  without  valleys  and  intersections,  and 
without  complicated  gutterings ;  the  simjiest  arrangements, 
which  will  be  easiest  to  keep  in  repair,  should  be  adopted 
for  the  exteriors,  for  instance  as  regards  chinuiey-stacks.  The 
following  plans  have  been  drawn  according  to  the  conditions  thus 
summarised.  Figure  7  gives  the  plan  of  the  ground-floor,  which 
is  in  fact  only  a  basement  story  nine  feet  high  beneath  the  vault- 
ing. At  P  is  a  low  porch  leading  to  a  hall  A,  at  the  end  of  which 
is  the  principal  stairs.  At  B  is  the  cooking-kitchen  with  its 
back-door  l>.  Cellars  and  storage  places  at  c  ;  a  bath-room  at  F. 
The  servants'  stairs  at  d.  All  these  apartments  are  vaulted 
^vith  light  materials,  such  as  brick  or  tufa.  We  suppose  the 
ground  to  rise  at  T,  so  that  the  vault  c  and  servants'  closet  G 
are  half  underground.     The  first  story  (which  is  only  a  ground. 


358 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


floor  9  ft.  10  in.  above  the  level  of  the  ground  outside,  figure  8) 
consists  of  a  drawing-room  A,  dining-room  c,  and  pantry  d  ;  a 
billiard-room  B,  and  a  smoking-room  or  study  F.  A  balcony  h 
runs  all  along  the  front  wall  by  the  drawing-room  and  billiard- 
room,  and  terminates  in  two  flights  of  steps  leading  down  to  the 
elevated  pai-t  of  the  ground  near  it.  All  the  basement  story 
is  in  stone  masonry :  the  side  walls  of  the  story,  figure  8,  are 
of  timber-framing  projecting  two-thirds  of  its  thickness  beyond 
the  corresponding  walls    of  the  basement.     The  second   story 


8 


^ 


Fig.  8.— Country  Villn.     First  Story. 


contains  the  bedrooms  for  the  family,  and  the  attic  story 
those  for  the  servants,  the  linen-rooms,  and  an  upper  drying 
room,  the  middle  of  which  left  open  lights  tlie  stairs,  and  serves 
to  ventUate  the  central  part  of  the  building,  so  that  a  section 
along  V  X  in  the  plan,  figure  8,  gives  the  dra%\iug  A,  figure  9. 
Half  the  figure  B  presents  the  gable  front  of  the  building, 
figure  10  the  side  front.  It  will  be  seen  that  the  chimney-shafts 
are  grouped  around  the  upper  part  of  the  stau-case  which  forms 
a  drying-room  and  a  reservoir  of  dry  air.  The  roofing  has 
a  continuous  slope,  without  valleys  or   intersections ;    gutters 


LECTURE  XIX. 


359 


placed  at  c  (see  figaire  9)  collect  the  water  from  these  slopes,  and 
discharge  it  on  the  ground  by  two  lateral  downpipes. 

We  may  be  sure  that  a  countiy-house  thus  constinicted 
requires  no  great  amount  of  repairs,  since  all  parts  of  the  build- 
ing are  sheltered  by  roofing  constructed  in  the  simplest  way  ; 
that  it  is  perfectly  healthy,  as  all  the  rooms  for  the  family  are 
protected  agamst  the  dampness  of  the  soil  and  of  the  atmosphere  ; 


3) 


rMHtm^v  -as 


X 


Fig.  9.— Cnuntry  Villa.     Elev.ition  .nliJ  Section. 


that  the  servants'  work  is  facilitated  by  its  arrangements,  since 
these  apartments  are  grouped  around  a  central  flight  of  stairs  ;  and 
that  the  erection  of  such  a  house  does  not  require  exceptionally 
expensive  appliances,  or  such  as  are  difficult  to  get  executed  at 
a  distance  from  large  towns.  Built  on  a  moderate  scale,  this 
dwelling  is  after  all  only  a  villa  suitable  for  a  fumilv  passing  the 
summer  in  the  country.     But  there  is  a  kind  of  country-house 


SCO 


LECTURES  OX  ARCHITECTURE. 


which  architects  are  rarely  called  on  to  bviild,  but  which  never- 
theless desei'ves  then'  study.  I  refer  to  dwellings  adapted  to 
the  requirements  of  pereons  who  pass  the  greater  part  of  their 
time  out  of  dooi-s,  eitlier  because  their  tastes  and  favourite 
pui-suits  ai-e  of  a  iiiral  character,  or  because  they  have  interests 
in  tlie  country  that  require  their  siu'velll;iiice,  or  agricultural 
labours  to  direct. 


Fio.  10.— Countiy  Villa.    Side  Elevatimi. 


In  our  fertile  plains  of  Languedoc  and  the  district  around 
Agen,  there  are  many  houses  of  this  kind  which  merit  the 
attention  of  architects,  inasmuch  as  they  completely  accord  with 
the  requirements,  although  their  appearance  is  very  unpretentious, 
and  everything  in  them  is  sacrificed  to  the  due  satisfaction  of 
those  requirements.  These  districts  have  retained  certain  local 
traditions,  which  have  not  suffered  those  changes  which  are  too 
often  met  with  m  many  other  French  provmces,  resulting  fi'om 


LECTURE  XIX.  30 1 

a  passion  for  vulgar  luxury  and  the  desire  to  make  a  show.  But 
while  those  who  are  curious  in  architectural  details  may  find 
nothing  of  interest  in  these  country  abodes,  the  cii'cumstance 
that  they  are  biiilt  in  conformity  with  the  requirements  of  their 
owners  gives  them  a  character  of  their  own,  a  style  proper  to 
them  we  may  say,  and  one  which  admirably  harmonises  with 
the  natural  features  that  sun-ound  them. 

While  great  mansions  and  chateaux  witli  their  complicated 
roofing  covered  with  dormer-windows,  their  turrets  with  sharply 
pointed  summits,  add  to  the  effect  of  an  imposing  natural 
environment  and  beautiful  parks  adorned  with  venerable 
trees,  the  miniature  imitations  of  these  abodes,  surrounded  by 
paltry  gardens,  excite  a  smile,  and  remind  us  somewhat  of  the 
table  of  the  Frog  and  the  Ox.  Yet  how  many  of  these 
microscopic  chateaux  have  been  built  in  our  country  districts 
looking  like  toys,  with  tiu'rets  which  would  scarcely  accom- 
modate a  dog,  with  battlements  made  for  cats  to  crawl  about 
on,  and  architectiu-al  details  in  plaster  or  terra-cotta,  and 
zinc  vanes  and  crestings.  Silly,  uninhabitable,  pretentious 
dwellings,  whose  only  merit  is  the  brevity  of  their  duration,  and 
the  fact  that  they  make  simple  and  genuine  forms  seem  more 
estimable  still  to  persons  of  sense. 

The  country-houses  of  our  southern  districts,  which  are 
both  villas  and  farm-houses,  offer  one  of  those  frankly  devised 
dwellings  which,  dictated  by  the  kind  of  hfe  led  by  the  inmates, 
who  are  true  campagivircU,  exhibit  in  their  features  a  stamp 
of  comfort,  convenience,  and  stability,  which  contrasts' with  the 
paltry  and  tasteless  appearance  of  most  of  our  suburban  houses. 
The  plan  is  simple,  as  is  the  case  with  all  our  old  habita- 
tions. The  main  object  is  security  against  inclemency  and  heat ; 
the  aspect  is  generally  carefully  selected.  In  the  disti'icts  in 
cpiestion  the  north-west  winds  ai'e  the  most  to  be  dreaded,  as  they 
bring  rain  and  bitter  cold  ;  an  angle,  therefore,  not  a  front,  should 
be  opposed  to  this  quarter  of  the  horizon.  During  half  the  year 
a  direct  south  aspect  would  be  very  undesirable;  the  most 
agreeable  aspects  would  then  be  the  north,  east,  and  south-east. 
Contrary  to  the  customs  in  England  and  North  Germany,  it  is 
desirable  to  unite  all  the  apaTtments  under  a  single  roof,  and  to 
build  thick  walls,  but  to  allow  the  apartments  to  be  readily 
ventilated  towards  evening  by  a  central  current  of  air.  An  open 
portico  or  vestibule  is  necessary  ;  it  should  be  low  and  deep,  and 
a  second  direct  vestibule  should  run  parallel  with  it.  In  houses 
of  this  kind  the  kitchen  must  be  very  spacious.  It  is  in  the 
kitchen  or  the  room  next  to  it  that  the  peasants  of  the  neigh- 
bourhood would  be  received.  It  should  have  ample  appendages 
in   the    shape    of  pantry  and   store-rooms.      The  dining-room 


362 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


should  be  near  it,  though  not  so  as  to  allow  cooking  odours  to 
reach  it.  The  parlour,  or  rather  hall,  is  an  apai-tment  at  a 
distance  from  the  entrance,  and  oj)oning  into  the  dining-room. 
Lastly,  a  very  extensive  shed  should  be  j^rovided  close  to  the 
buildings  of  the  house,   which  will  contain  the  stables,  coach- 


XI>VN».^4&^\\.^ 


Fig.  11.  — Soiitlirrn  Frciicli  Rural  Dwelling.     Gronrnl  and  First-floor  rbns. 

house,  bake-house,  wood-piles,  and  wide  spaces  to  shelter  wagons, 
washing  and  drying  arrangements,  etc. 

On  the  first  story,  besides  the  living-rooms,  an  apartment 
near  the  stairs  must  be  provided  for  the  master  of  the  house  : 


LECTURE  XIX.  363 

a  parlour  or  study  in  which  matters  of  business  may  be  transacted. 
A  house  of  this  kind  greatly  resembles  a  httle  Gallo-E,oman  villa, 
and  we  may  reasonably  suppose  that  it  has  retained  the  tradi- 
tions of  the  latter.  Many  such  cormtry-houses  in  the  plains  of 
Toulouse  and  the  Agen  district  have  seemed  to  us  so  completely 
to  realise  the  programme  of  .a  rural  abode,  that  we  think  it 
desirable  to  exhibit  here  a  kind  of  type  or  resume,  figure  1 1  ; 
especially  as  this  type  in  question  is  in  itself  a  striking  criticism 
of  those  meaningless  architectural  toys  which  we  have  been 
accustomed  for  some  years  to  regard  as  typical  country  residences. 

At  A  is  the  plan  of  the  ground-floor,  built  partly  on  cellars  of 
no  great  height,  to  which  the  stejjs  a  descend.  The  whole  space 
B  c  D  E  is  a  very  extensive  pent-house,  containing  stables  at  F, 
coach-house  at  G,  bake-house  at  H,  and  wash-house  at  i.  The 
dwelling-house  against  which  this  pent-house  leans  consisted  of 
a  porch  K,  closed  only  during  the  night  by  a  grille  or  gate  of 
wood  palings  ;  a  vestibule  L,  leading  to  a  corridor  M,  which  runs 
through  the  building ;  a  cooking-kitchen  N,  near  the  entrance, 
with  a  receivmg  room  o,  to  take  in  provisions  ;  lavatory  p,  and 
servants'  pantry,  R.  The  room  marked  t  seiwes  purposes  of 
various  kinds ;  a  bath-room,  or  apartment  for  ironing,  or  a  linen- 
room.  At  s  is  the  hall,  and  at  v  the  dininti'-room.  The  stairs 
X  lead  to  the  first  story  opening  on  a  chamber,  o  (see  y).  At 
h  is  the  master's  apartment,  and  at  c  are  chambers  for  the  family, 
with  their  closets.  The  second  story  contains  one  or  two  bed- 
rooms, and  those  for  the  servants.  Houses  of  this  kind  are 
generally  built  of  unburnt  brick  in  the  upjier  parts,  and  burnt 
brick  for  tlie  ground-floors  ;  the  timber-work  is  of  flr.  Genoese 
cornices  with  projecting  rafters  completely  shelter  the  thick 
walls.  Constructions  of  unburnt  brick — the  genuine  pise — have 
the  advantage,  when  the  walls  are  thick  enough,  of  preserving 
the  interiors  from  excessive  heat  and  cold  ;  well  made,  they  will 
last  for  centuries.  Care  is  always  taken  to  build  the  angles  and 
the  jambs  of  the  windows  with  burnt  bricks. 

Figure  12  gives  the  side  elevation  of  the  house  in  question 
along  g  h.  Lofty  elms  generally  shelter  these  little  vilkv  from 
the  too  powerful  rays  of  the  sun  ;  close  to  them  are  the  ploughed 
fields,  kitchen-gardens,  and  orchards. 

Figure  13  presents  the  front  elevation,  overlooking  the  path 
or  highway,  and  which  has  scarcely  any  windows.  It  is  only 
from  the  logias  that  the  inmates  can  see  who  is  coming.  This 
is  another  traditional  feature  which  imparts  a  characteristic 
appearance  to  the  front  of  these  houses. 

In  the  ancient  Languedoc  chateau  we  also  find  this  typical 
arrangement  of  a  central  corridor  passing  right  through  the 
building,  admitting  to  apartments  on  the  right  and  left.     Near 


36  t 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


Castelnaudary  there  still  exists  a  chateau,  dating  from  the  com- 
mencement of  the  seventeenth  century,  which  certainly  affords 
one  of  the  most  interesting  specimens  of  a  manorial  abode  of 
that  epoch,  and  which  is  designed  throughout  in  accordance  with 
the  requirements  suggested  by  the  habits  of  the  district  and  the 


\% 


ii'S 


t 


I  I  I   I 


-I- 


-4-- 


-4- 


Flo.  12. — Southern  French  Rural  Dwelling.    Front  ElevatiDiL 

customs  of  the  time.  It  is  the  chateau  de  Ferrals,  the  residence 
of  a  rural  landholder  of  noble  family,  a  captain  in  the  army ;  it 
presents  the  double  character  of  a  fortress  and  an  agricultural 
villa.  Built  at  the  time  when  the  noblesse  of  Languedoc,  who 
were  to  a  great  extent  Protestants,  were  endeavouring  to  secure 


Flti,  13.— Southern  French  Rural  Dwelling.    Side  Elevation. 

their  position  against  the  Cathohc  royal  power,  its  construction 
must  have  been  interrupted  after  the  taking  of  Montauban  by 
Louis  xiii.  In  fact  the  roofings  have  remained  unfinished,  and 
provisional  coverings  have  sheltered  the  stories  of  the  building 
from  that  time  down  to  the  present.     Figure  14  gives  a  drawing 


LECTURE  XIX. 


3C5 


^^<-m 


Fig    14.-  ChStcaiide  FcrraU. 


366  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

of  the  whole  of  the  chateau  with  its  demi-lune  at  A ;  its  fore- 
court at  B,  and  its  main  buildings  at  c.  This  main  building,  as 
shown  in  the  plan,  consists  of  a  large  hall  which  traverses  its 
whole  length  and  gives  access  to  apartments  communicating  with 
rooms  placed  m  the  flanking  turrets  in  the  form  of  bastions, 
and  which  besides  their  windows  are  furnished  with  embrasures 
for  cannon.  A  wide  moat  with  its  ckawbridge  at  D,  com- 
municating with  the  gardens  which  are  well  laid  out,  completely 
surrounds  the  chateau.  A  basement  story  is  lighted  by  windows 
opening  on  the  fosse,  and  there  is  a  first  story  over  the  ground- 
floor.  Above  the  first  story  there  niust  have  been  a  rampart  walk 
of  which  only  the  traces  are  visible  ;  behind  which  the  roof-story 
surmounted  the  entire  main  building.  The  two  turrets  (bastions 
of  the  fore  court)  are  connected  with  the  main  building  by  lofty 
curtain  walls,  against  wliich  are  built  covered  passages.  The 
masonry,  of  hewn  stone  and  massive  quoins,  has  an  appearance 
of  sturdy  strength  which  perfectly  harmonises  with  the  wildly 
picturesque  features  of  the  country  it  overlooks,  bounded  on  the 
horizon  by  the  Pyrenees. 

However  alien  to  the  present  age  this  huge  building  may  seem, 
it  is  nevertheless  one  of  the  most  genuine  representatives  of  the 
rural  mansion  of  the  south  of  France  ;  and  if  rendered  habitable 
it  would  be  a  residence  as  salubrious  as  conformable  to  the 
customs  of  the  countiy.  The  great  central  hall,  open  only  at  its 
two  extremities,  is  as  well  lighted  as  could  be  wished,  owing  to 
the  brilliance  of  the  light  in  that  district.  This  is  the  place  of 
assembling  for  the  family,  Init  where  conversations  apart  would 
be  possible,  though  all  were  in  the  same  room.  The  rooms  occupy- 
ing the  turrets  are  reached  from  the  central  apartments  and  the 
great  hall  itself;  but  this  arrangement,  which  even  in  our  times 
is  not  reckoned  inconvenient  in  the  coimtry,  where  intercourse 
between  the  inmates  is  much  more  free  than  in  the  city,  is 
customaiy  in  southern  habitations,  and  is  so  much  the  less 
objectionable  in  the  case  in  question,  as  at  the  chateau  de  Ferrals 
private  stairs  place  these  rooms  in  communication  with  the  lower 
stories,  and  the  servants  can  reach  them  without  passing  through 
the  great  hall.  The  first  story  presented  the  same  arrangements, 
except  that  the  apartments  flanking  the  great  hall  served  as 
bed-chambers,  and  communication  with  those  of  the  turrets  was 
facilitated  by  private  outlets  oj^ening  on  the  two  extremities 
of  the  great  hall. 

Such  a  block  of  buildings  grouped  under  one  roof  is  the  best 
means  of  protection  against  the  heat  and  those  northerly  winds 
which  are  so  amioying  in  the  south  of  France  ;  the  arrangement 
in  question  therefore  should  always  be  retained  in  designing 
country  dwellings  in  that  district.     Scattered  buildings,  such 


LECTURE  XIX.  307 

as  we  find  in  the  rural  dwellings  of  England,  would  be  intolerable 
in  a  southern  climate,  as  they  would  not  be  sulHciently  protected 
against  the  heat,  the  winds  from  the  north,  and  those  charged 
with  humidity  coming  from  the  Mediterranean ;  nor  against  the 
dust  or  that  excess  of  light  which  brings  insects  of  all  kinds  into 
the  interiors.  Architects,  therefore,  should  pay  much  more 
regard  to  these  conditions  of  climate  than  to  certain  features 
adopted  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Paris  or  London,  and  which  it 
is  the  fashion  to  unport  from  the  English  Channel  to  the  Pyrenees, 
or  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pthine.  But  I  woidd  ask.  Are  the 
suburban  dwellings  around  Paris  constructed  \A'ith  a  due  con- 
sideration of  the  exigencies  of  the  clhnate  and  the  wants  of  the 
occupants  1  This  may  well  be  doubted,  and  even  if  we  say 
nothing  about  those  castles  of  cards  we  mentioned  just  now, 
do  those  turrets,  exposed  to  all  the  four  wmds,  those  roofs  with 
pendent  eaves,  those  narrow  apartments,  and  windows  all  of  the 
same  size,  not%vithstanding  the  difference  in  the  amount  of 
sm'face  of  the  rooms  they  have  to  light,  does  this  constitute  a 
rural  architecture  appropriate  to  its  objects  ?  Are  not  such 
arrangements  rather  the  result  of  a  want  of  study  and  sound 
reasoning,  and  of  certain  order  of  routine  that  has  become  in- 
veterate in  the  pubhc  ?  In  the  suburban  abodes  of  Paris  the 
aspect  and  variety  of  prospects  is  scarcely  taken  account  of  at 
all ;  the  chief  aim  is  to  give  a  showy  appearance  to  the  fronts 
rather  than  to  satisfy  the  daily  needs  of  the  inhabitants. 

In  this  respect  the  English  country-houses  are  better  suited 
to  theii'  purpose.  Should  they  therefore  be  copied  among  our- 
selves ?  Certainly  not ;  the  climate  of  England  and  the  habits 
of  the  English  differ  from  ours,  as  we  have  already  pointed  out. 
Besides,  even  in  England,  the  plan  of  irregvdarly  grouped  buildings 
has  not  always  been  adopted.  Some  of  its  manorial  residences 
exhibit  a  symmetrical  grouping.  Among  others,  we  may  mention 
Warkworth  Castle  in  Northumberland,  whose  plan  presents  a 
large  square  with  canted  angles,  and  a  polygonal  projection  in 
the  centre  of  each  front.  Thus  each  story  contains  eight  apart- 
ments surroundmg  a  central  nucleus  surmounted  by  a  watch- 
tower. 

It  must  be  acknowledged  that  English  country-houses  have 
a  considerable  advantage  as  compared  with  our  own  ;  the  archi- 
tectiu'e  adopted  in  them  is  certainly  one  suited  to  dwellings  in 
which  the  comfort  of  the  inmates  is  made  the  first  consideration. 
The  English  have  had  the  good  sense  to  pre.serve  certain  tradi- 
tions of  the  Middle  Ages  which  sanction  iiTegularities  of  plan, — 
arrangements  in  details  adopted  to  suit  special  requirements. 
In  France,  when  any  one  intending  to  build  is  possessed  with  the 
idea  of  having  a  house  erected  accordiuof  to  what  he  imaffines 


36S  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

the  "style"  of  the  Middle  Ages,  his  architect  straightway  sets 
to  work  to  stick  upon  a  front — which  might  really  belong  to 
another  style — ornaments  borrowed  from  some  manor-house  of 
the  fifteenth  century  ! — to  introduce  symmetrically  along  the 
front  windows  more  or  less  "  Gothic," — to  put  up  high-2:)itched 
gables,  and  to  make  "  pointed  arches "  here  and  there.  This 
genei-ally  produces  a  very  inconvenient  and  always  a  ridiculous 
desigQ.  It  is  not  windows  of  a  certain  form,  mouldings,  or 
even  high-j^itched  gables,  that  constitute  mediaeval  houses,  but 
jierfect  freedom  in  the  management  of  the  plan,  and  ingenious 
arrangements  fitted  to  make  the  dwelhng  harmonise  with  the 
habits  of  its  inmates.  The  only  advantage  that  can  be  derived 
from  models  left  us  by  the  Middle  Ages  is  our  learning  from  them 
to  give  an  artistic  form  to  every  requirement  in  an  architectural 
programme,  and  never  to  pervert  the  architecture  by  forcing 
certain  conventional  forms  into  combination  with  requirements 
that  are  alien  to  them. 

When  the  unfortunate  idea  took  possession  of  our  country- 
men of  adopting  the  architecture  (called  Classical),  which  was  in 
a  certain  measure  an  oflsj^ring  of  Italian  art,  and  which  was  in 
fact  not  unsuited  to  very  large  dwellings ;  and  when,  in  an  ill- 
advised  spirit  of  imitation,  they  proceeded  to  adapt  its  forms  to 
habitations  of  an  inferior  order,  the  traditions  of  local  art,  which 
were  in  fact  but  the  result  of  lengthened  experience,  were  lost. 
The  true  and  simple  forms  dictated  by  custom  and  time-honoured 
practice  were  sacrificed  to  an  outward  show  which  was  quite  at 
variance  with  the  requirements.  For  example,  absolutely  sym- 
metrical arrangements  were  imposed  on  parts  of  a  plan  which 
require  unlimited  variety  in  the  dimension  and  the  distribution 
of  the  apartments,  in  the  method  of  lighting  them,  connecting 
them  in  the  economy  of  the  house,  and  of  protecting  them 
against  the  sun's  heat  or  the  cold. 

Of  those  who  build  country  houses,  and  of  architects  them- 
selves, very  few  understand  the  true  spirit  of  our  medieval  archi- 
tecture. To  most  persons,  the  domestic  architecture  of  the 
Middle  Ages  seems  a  mere  afiair  of  taste — a  peculiar  style  of 
decoration — something  like  the  wearing  of  an  old-fashioned 
dress.  This  being  the  case,  we  can  readily  understand  how 
those  who  wish  to  hold  that  middle  course  which  commends 
itself  to  intelligent  persons — who  in  fact  do  not  wish  to  be  con- 
spicuous— should  shrink  from  appearing  in  public  in  such 
obsolete,  pretentious,  and  inconvenient  atth-e.  If  it  had  been  our 
habit  to  study  such  matters  seriously— and  I  wish  we  were 
inclined  to  form  such  a  habit, — our  architects  would  have  soon 
discovered  that  media-val  art,  applied  to  domestic  as  well  as  to 
every  other  kind  of  architecture,  is  not  an  afiSxir  of  moulilings, 


LECTURE  XIX.  3G9 

or  of  the  few  commonplace  foi-ms  with  which  antiquarian  col- 
lections are  occupied,  but  that  it  involves  first  and  foremost  a 
principle  of  freedom  in  the  means  of  execution  which  can  adapt 
itself  quite  as  well  to  the  requirements  of  mankind  in  the 
fourteenth  century  as  in  the  nineteenth.  It  is  true  that  in 
architecture,  as  in  politics,  though  we  talk  much  of  hberty  and 
inscribe  the  word  on  our  jiublic  buildings,  we  have  but  little 
comprehension  of  what  it  really  implies.  There  are,  for  instance, 
many  architects  who  would  not  adopt  a  "  Gothic  "  arrangement 
because  they  would  not  wish  to  be  thought  to  sympathise  with 
the  pcfrtj  clerical !  To  them  "  Gothic,"  "  dominant  Church," 
"feudalism,"  "glebe-lands,"  "tithes,"  and  "serfdom,"  are  all 
contained  in  the  same  cask,  so  that  if  one  of  them  is  turned  out, 
all  the  others  must  necessarily  come  out  too.  It  is  of  no  use  to 
tell  these  good  people  that  the  lay  art  of  the  Middle  Ages, 
which  was  essentially  free  in  its  principles,  ways  of  proceeding, 
and  exjiression,  has  no  connection  with  the  bishops,  feudal  lords, 
monks,  and  barons  of  the  Middle  Ages,  or  with  the  "  Holy 
Inquisition ; "  they  will  stop  their  eai's,  and  rather  than  run  the 
risk  of  raising  these  ghosts  wlU  remam  enslaved  by  academic 
doctrines,  which  are  much  more  tyrannical  and  narrow  than  ever 
were  the  mediaeval  schools  of  art,  which  were  perfectly  indepen- 
dent of  all  influences  foreign  to  their  development. 

The  English,  however,  who  are  more  practical  than  we  can 
contrive  to  be,  have  preserved  those  elements  of  their  ancient 
domestic  architecture  which  are  available  m  the  present  day  : 
viz.,  the  spirit  of  liberty  and  individuality.  Yet  they  are  not 
on  that  account  the  prey  of  the  clencaux.  They  have  con- 
sidered it  desirable  to  make  use  of  appliances  which  have  been 
recognised  as  good  and  which  have  been  consecrated  by  long 
visage  ;  though  they  reserve  to  themselves  the  liberty  of  imjirov- 
ing  them  rather  than  hastily  throwing  them  aside  and  adopting 
forms  absolutely  foreign  to  their  habits  and  climate,  and  torturing 
themselves  and  their  families  by  living  in  houses  whose  style  is 
pronounced  orthodox  by  a  coterie.  They  have  discovered  that 
the  uncompromisingly  symmetrical  style  applied  to  then-  dwell- 
ings mvolves  useless  constraint,  or  at  least  inconvenience,  and 
they  have  rejected  it.  They  are  convinced  that  well-chosen 
aspects,  openings  for  light  and  air  contrived  with  a  view  to  the 
requirements  and  the  comfort  of  the  house,  are  preferable  to 
those  uniform  fronts  with  windows  all  of  equal  size  (sometimes 
stopped  up),  and  with  equal  spaces  between  them,  Avhich  we 
build  in  the  country  as  well  as  in  the  city  ;  and  they  have  con- 
tinued to  take  account  of  the  aspect  and  the  requirements  of  the 
interior  in  arranging  and  lighting  the  various  apartments.  They 
have  also  maintained  that  m  the  mode  of  construction  applied 
VOL.  n.  2  a 


370 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


by  their  ancestors  to  houses  in  the  country  there  were  simple 
means,  easy  and  evident  in  execution,  and  a  great  variety  of 
features  accommodated  to  all  the  requirements  of  a  dwelling ; 
and  they  have  continued  to  adopt  these  means  without  the 
slightest  suspicion  that  their  civil  liberty  might  be  compromised 
by  their  thus  respecting  an  advantage  which  had  been  secured 
to  them  by  gradual  acquisition.  This  is  how  our  neighbours  on 
the  other  side  of  the  Straits  of  Dover  understand  the  exercise  of 
liberty.  We  take  a  very  different  view  of  things.  If  we  have 
drunk  at  a  despot's  table,  as  soon  as  he  is  dethroned  we  break 
tJie  glass,  but,  whether  we  are  the  better  f  )r  it  or  not,  this  does 
not  prevent  another  despot  from  coming  who  makes  us  pay  very 
dear  for  the  glass  we  have  broken. 

J5 


Fiii.  15.— Warkwortli  Ciistlc.     Croiind-iilali. 

Warkworth  Castle  may  supply  the  type  of  an  excellent 
arrangement  for  a  country-house  of  considerable  dimensions. 
And  this  arrangement  would  be  quite  as  desirable  in  France 
as  in  England.  We  will  try  to  show  how  the  principles  it 
exemplifies  may  be  made  available. 

Figure  1 5  gives  the  ground-floor  :  at  A  is  a  vestibide  wliich 
is  entered  by  a  porch  covering  a  flight  of  steps.  From  this 
vestibule  we  reach   the   great    staircase   B,   which   also    serves 


LECTURE  XIX. 


371 


as  a  hall,  and  thence  we  pass  into  a  first  saloon  c  and  the 
great  drawing-room  D.  The  dining-hall  is  at  e,  with  ])antry  at 
F.  At  G  is  a  billiard-room  directly  communicating  with  the 
great  drawing-room,  and  with  the  vestibule  A.  At  H  is  the 
servants'  staircase  leading  down  to  the  kitchens  and  up  to  the 
attics.  From  the  saloon  c  there  is  a  direct  descent  to  the  garden 
by  flights  of  steps  P,  which  fomis  a  balcony  and  affords  an 
entrance  from  the  outside  not  only  into  the  saloon  c,  but  also  into 
the  dining-hall  and  great  drawing-room  D.  The  deep  bays  jiro- 
jecting  at  the  axis  of  the  building  form  annexes  to  the  dining- 
hall  E  and  the  drawing-room  D.  This  annex  greatly  facilitates 
the  service  of  the  dining-hall,  being  close  to  the  pantry,  and  it 
supplies  a  very  convenient  retiring  place  from  the  great  drawing- 
room  ;  the  chimney-pieces  are  at  a  in  the  truncated  angles  in 
fi'ont  of  the  windows. 

IS 


nil  ■"'"■■ 


Pio.  16.— Warkwortli  Castle.     Fiist-lloor  plan. 


The  great  staircase  ascends  only  to  the  first  story,  figure  1 C. 
It  is  suiTounded  by  a  galleiy  which  leads  to  seven  suites  of 
rooms,  each  consisting  of  a  bedroom  with  small  sitting-rooms 
and  dressing-rooms. 

The  pi-incipal  staircase  (see  the  section  along  h  c,  fig.  17  a) 
forms  a  central  turret,  lighted  lantern-fashion  on  the  four  sides. 
Around  this  turret  are  arranged  wide  gutters  draining  the  roofs 


372 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


in  four  down -pipes  of  easy  access,  contrived  in  the  angles  of  the 
staircase  (see  the  plans).  These  down-spouts  communicate  with 
a  collecting  drain.  They  can  be  kept  warm  in  winter  by  the 
central  heating  apparatus,  to  avoid  the  inconvenience  generally 
experienced  from  the  freezing  of  the  spouts  ;  moreover,  as  they 
pass  the  galleries  connected  with  the  suites  of  bedrooms,  they 
receive  the  slops  from  the  dressing-rooms,  while  the  pretty 
spacious  shafts  which  enclose  them  also  contain  the  pipes  for 
water  supply.  It  may  be  remarked  that  these  pipe- shafts  are 
wide  enough  to  allow  of  a  man's  getting  into  them  to  repair  the 
pipes  when  required. 


V^^^kQi] 


G^ 


Fio.  17.— Warkworth  Castle.     Elevation  and  Section. 


At  B,  fig.  17  is  given  the  elevation  oihontf  g.  The  roofs  of 
the  projecting  bays  are  terminated  by  gables  on  the  outside  and 
are  hipped  on  the  inner  side. 

Owing  to  this  arrangement  of  the  central  staircase,  which  is 
well  lighted  and  ventilated,  the  different  services  may  be  grouped 


LECTURE  XIX.  373 

around  it  without  leaving  any  room  dark.  Views  are  obtained 
towards  all  points  of  the  horizon,  which  greatly  adds  to  the 
charm  of  a  habitation  in  the  country.  The  construction  of  so 
compact  a  building,  in  which  the  front  walls  as  compared  with 
the  surface  occupied  are  not  very  extensive,  is  less  expensive 
than  that  of  a  building  of  the  usual  thickness  with  wings.  In 
fact  this  great  agglomeration  of  rooms  occupies  not  less  than 
6800  square  feet,  while  the  linear  extent  of  the  frontage  walls 
at  the  base  is  only  370  feet. 

Wliile  there  is  an  advantage  in  point  of  economy  as  regards 
buUdmg  in  adopting  this  compactly  gi'ouped  arrangement,  com- 
munication is  undeniably  more  easy,  and  keeping  the  mansion 
in  repair  less  expensive.  The  spouting  in  consequence  of  the 
simplicity  of  the  method  cannot  occasion  any  of  the  inconveniences 
that  so  frequently  occur  in  houses  in  the  country,  which  are 
more  exposed  to  the  inclemency  of  the  weather  than  those  in  the 
towns.  The  accumulation  of  snow  in  the  four  central  gutters 
cannot  do  any  damage,  as  these  gutters  have  a  very  rapid  fall, 
and  the  down-pipes  can  be  kept  at  a  temperature  that  will 
always  leave  their  upper  orifice  free.  Moreover  a  leakage  m 
these  do^vn-pipes,  isolated  as  they  are  in  wide  shafts,  cannot 
occasion  any  disaster. 

These  interior  roofs  are  sheltered  from  the  wind  and  conse- 
quently are  rarely  exposed  to  dilapidation.  The  chimneys  which 
ai-e  for  the  most  pai't  placed  on  the  outer  walls  and  crowning 
gables  are  firmly  buUt,  and  rise  high  enough  to  prevent  the 
draught  being  obstructed.  The  roofing  can  be  readily  inspected, 
and  without  danger. 

We  may  therefore  derive  instruction  from  some  of  these 
medifeval  designs  and  adapt  them  to  our  modern  western  requife- 
nients,  better  than  we  could  those  adopted  in  certain  chateaux 
of  majestic  exterior,  built  during  the  seventeenth  century,  or  in 
Itahan  villas,  such  as  Palladio's  for  example,  which  were  for  the 
most  part  only  temporarily  occupied  for  festive  purposes.  From 
the  fact  that  many  of  our  chateaux  or  large  country  houses  of  the 
seventeenth  and  even  of  the  eighteenth  century  are  by  no  means 
comfortably  arranged,  it  has  been  concluded  that  the  further  we 
go  back  into  the  past,  the  more  conspicuous  will  the  inconveniences 
become.  But  such  is  not  the  case.  It  is  from  the  middle  of  the 
seventeenth  centuiy  that  we  must  date  a  passion  for  symmetry 
and  "  the  majestic,"  which  can  scarcely  be  said  to  have  possessed 
preceding  periods.  In  those  remote  times  the  first  consideration 
was  the  convenience  of  the  inmates  of  a  dwellmg,  however  large  ; 
and  the  forms  adopted  in  their  architecture  were  deduced  from 
what  that  convenience  required.  It  woidd  seem  that  so  practical 
an  age  as  ours  ought  to  favour  this  wise  and  natural  principle  ; 


374  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

and  that  we  sliould  be  inclined  to  abandon  those  prejudices  of 
the  school  to  which  the  public  even  more  than  architects  them- 
selves remain  attached,  and  make  it  a  point  to  conform  to  the 
rules  of  good  common  sense  before  all  things. 

Some  wealthy  individuals,  struck  by  the  comfortable  arrange- 
ments displayed  in  most  English  country-houses,  have  made  the 
experiment  of  employing  English  architects  for  chateaux  or 
smaller  houses.  This  attemjyt  has  not  been  successful.  Whether 
it  is  because  their  builders  have  not  preserved  freedom  in  their 
work  away  from  home,  or  that  their  employers  have  endeavoured 
to  make  them  adopt  architectural  fonns  other  than  those  to  which 
they  were  accustomed,  or  that  they  have  not  taken  the  ti-ouble 
to  become  acquainted  with  our  methods  of  building,  these 
dwellingfs  neither  exhibit  the  advautaijes  of  those  which  are 
regarded  as  models  in  England,  nor  have  they  the  charm  of  our 
own.  Ill-built  and  gloomy,  they  possess  no  other  merit  than 
that  of  presenting  toleial)ly  convenient  minor  arrangements 
and  generally  well-devised  dependencies.  But  it  is  not  in  this 
quarter  that  we  should  look  for  models. 

We  possess  in  France  itself,  in  our  ancient  architecture  (if  we 
will  take  the  trouble  to  look  about  us),  a  much  more  extensive 
variety  of  methods  of  construction  than  England  offers ;  a  fact 
which,  apart  from  our  more  versatile  genius,  may  be  explained 
by  the  difference  of  climate  in  different  paits  of  our  country,  and 
the  diverse  natui'e  of  the  mateiials  suitable  for  buildmg.  That 
we  should  not  attempt  servilely  to  copy  these  so  numerous 
examples  may  be  all  very  well ;  but  that  we  should  take  no  notice 
of  them, — that  we  should  not  take  advantage  of  the  results 
obtained, — cannot  be  justified  by  any  somid  reason,  especially  as 
the  features  which  are  conspicuous  in  the  various  modes  of 
construction  formerly  adopted  are,  great  fi-eedom,  and  an  abun- 
dance of  resources  for  conquering  all  the  difficulties  presented  by 
the  requirements  of  the  case.  Why  then  should  we  deprive 
ourselves  of  the  advantages  already  jirovided  for  our  use  ? 

The  limits  to  which  these  Lectures  are  restricted  will  hardly 
allow  of  my  mentioning  many  of  those  ancient  building  methods 
which  .are  now  disdained,  but  which  could  be  so  easily  adopted 
and  even  improved  upon  in  our  day.  It  seems  desirable,  how- 
ever, to  mention  some  which  are  exemplified  in  the  last  example 
we  have  presented. 

Thus  we  see  in  this  country  mansion  that  the  central  bays, 
all  polygonal  in  plan  on  the  ground-floor  {to  allow  of  oblique 
views  and  to  clear  the  angles),  are  square  on  the  fii'st  stoiy, — 
a  form  preferable  for  bedrooms. 

This  arrangement,  which  is  but  seldom  adojited  in  the  present 
day — I  do  not  know  why, — was  formerly  veiy  common,  and  the 


LECTURE  XIX. 


375 


very   simple  manner,   as   shown  in 


the 


li 


m 


plan) 
and 


problem  was   solved   in 
figure  18. 

The  oblique  face  on  the  ground-floor  (see  A  in 
is  6  ft.  7  in.  wide.  The  rectangular  w^alls  ai'e  2  ft. 
the  oblique  walls  2  ft.  4  m.  in  thickness.  On  the  oblique  face  is 
a  wdndow  3  ft..  3.  in.  broad.  Two  corbels  of  two  courses  each 
prolong  the  face  of  the  walls  at  a  right  angle,  as  far  as  the  point 
where  they  meet  above  the  lintel  of  the  window  on  these  corbels  ; 
two  other  courses  a  h  form  a  corbelling  and  bear  the  angle  of  the 
story  c.  There  remains  a  small  horizontal  triangular  soffit  at  e. 
The  elevation  B  sufficiently  explains  this  construction,  which  is  so 
simple  and  in  mauy  cases  so  advantageous. 


^ 


-' 

' 

r 

1  " 

! 

1       _ 

1 

\'_ 

1 

c 


Fig.  is.  Warkworth  Castie.    Canted  angles  of  the  bays. 


Let  us  now  examine  the  structural  system  of  the  ceiling  of 
the  central  lantern  which  crowns  the  staircase  of  the  country 
mansion,  a  general  view  of  which  was  given  m  figures  15,  16,  17. 
Skylights  m  the  roof,  on  which  the  rain  pours  du'ectly,  are  not 
without  their  disadvantages  in  towns  ;  but  in  country  districts 
where  repairs  cannot  be  executed  directly,  the  inconvenience  is 
much  more  serious ;  if  a  violent  hailstorm  occurs,  the  glass  is 


37G  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

broken  and  the  interior  is  deluged,  the  mischief  cannot  be 
remedied  immediately  ;  while,  if  it  snows,  the  intei'ior  is  darkened; 
and  driving  rains  invariably  penetrate  through  these  glazed  roofs, 
however  well  constructed.  We  should  consequently  avoid  them. 
And  so  we  obsei-ve  in  the  section,  figure  17,  that  the  central 
lantern  has  vertical  lights,  well  sheltered  and  double,  with  room 
for  passing  between  to  allow  of  clearung  and  necessary  repairs. 
Figure  19  shows  the  construction  of  one  quai'ter  of  this  lantern 
in  its  interior.  The  quarter  of  the  plan  A  is  taken  at  the  level 
of  the  openings ;  it  shows  at  a  one  of  the  shafts  containing  the 
down-pipes.  Four  strut-trusses  p  are  placed  in  the  direction  of 
the  two  axes,  the  lantern  bemg  square ;  eight  brackets  H  are 
fixed  at  the  corners  of  the  skew  faces  of  the  shafts.  Each  pair 
of  these  eight  brackets  is  united  at  their  head.  The  strut- 
trusses  are  framed  as  shown  in  the  section,  at  B.  They  consist 
of  an  upright  placed  against  the  internal  face  of  the  wall, 
and  resting  on  a  corbel ;  of  an  inclined  piece  c,  two  couples  D,  a 
headjjiece  r,  a  second  inclined  piece  G,  halved  into  the  first, 
a  second  post  i,  bearing  on  a  beam  L.  The  diagonal  trusses, 
whose  elevation  is  drawai  at  m,  rest  on  feet  supported  on  the 
brackets  H.  The  ends  of  these  eight  trusses  support  the 
octagonal  frame  o.  Glazed  casements  are  placed  at  N  in  the 
stone  windows ;  a  second  set  of  casements  of  iron,  also  glazed, 
are  placed  at  E.  A  passage  K  thus  remains  which  can  be  reached 
from  the  roofs.  The  outer  windows  N,  pierced  much  higher  than 
those  marked  E,  allow  the  light  to  penetrate  into  the  staircase 
in  the  most  desirable  manner.  The  truss  timbers  are  from  4  in. 
to  i\  in.  square.  They  are  cased  with  boarding  on  the  two  faces, 
as  our  drawmg  shows,  and  which  may  be  cut  to  a  curve  and  be 
moulded  as  may  seem  suitable  ;  this  nailed  boarding  adds  greatly 
to  the  strength  of  these  trusses ;  and  they  may  be  perforated  as 
seen  at  J.  Moreover,  if  care  has  been  taken  to  fill  in  between 
the  ends  of  each  pair  of  boards  with  a  jiiece  of  deal  cut  to  the 
same  section  as  those  ends,  each  truss  will  thus  have  the  appear- 
ance of  a  homogeneous  rib.  Of  course  these  casings  of  boarding 
can  be  decorated  as  richly  as  may  be  deemed  desirable  with 
carving  or  painting. 

On  the  eight  trusses  (4  along  the  axes  and  4  diagonal), 
wooden  ceilings  will  be  placed  at  s  according  to  any  design  that 
may  be  chosen.  At  t,  there  will  be  a  ventilation  valve.  The 
internal  glazed  frames  v  comprise  therefore  all  the  space  left 
between  the  eight  trusses  and  give  as  much  light  as  possible. 

We  can  easily  see  that  such  a  construction  could  be  erected 
at  very  little  expense.  Being  perfectly  well  roofed  and  sheltered 
it  can  be  decorated  with  painting  without  any  fear  of  injury  from 
damp.     The  trusses  are  cramped  at  x ;  but  there  is  no  fear  of 


LECTURE  XIX. 


377 


"^m'm 


Fio.  19.— Warkworth  Castle.     Lantern  ceiling. 


378  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

their  giving,  as  they  are  supported  against  the  octagonal  frame, 
which  cannot  be  put  out  of  shape,  being  equally  pressed  at  its 
eight  angles. 

It  is  always  desirable  in  building  in  the  country  to  avoid  as 
far  as  possible  the  du"ect  contact  of  the  wood  with  the  masonry, 
— as  remarked  above — as  also  excessively  large  window-sashes 
and  doors  of  unnecessary  height ;  for  the  effects  of  damp  and  of 
sudden  changes  of  temperature  are  more  to  be  feared  in  the 
country  than  in  the  city.  On  this  account  the  plan  of  dividing 
the  windows  by  fixed  mullions  is  especially  applicable  in  dwellings 
in  the  country,  because  though  large  windows  are  secured,  the 
sashes  can  be  divided  and  they  are  of  no  gi'eat  extent  of  surface. 
The  only  difficulty  it  presents  would  arise  in  attempting  to  put 
up  external  sun-blinds. 

But  as  the  walls  of  dwellings  in  the  country  built  of  masonry 
must  always  be  pretty  thick,  there  would  be  no  difficulty  in  putting 
metal  jalousies  in  the  window  jamljs  folded  back  in  leaves  eight 
inches  broad  at  least,  for  the  lower  lights.  As  regards  the  upper 
lights  above  the  stone  transoms,  they  cannot  be  closed  by  means 
of  jalousies,  as  it  would  be  impossible  to  open  or  shut  them  from 
the  inside  without  a  ladder.  For  these  upper  parts  of  muUioned 
windows  therefore,  another  method  must  be  adopted.  Mechan- 
ical contrivances  have  the  disadvantage,  especially  for  houses  in 
the  country,  of  getting  out  of  order,  or  tendmg  to  get  rusty  in  the 
inclement  part  of  the  year,  and  so  not  working.  The  great  point 
therefore  is  to  discover  a  simple  method  that  does  not  require 
constant  keeping  up.  And  the  sinqjlest  arrangement  for  closmg 
in  the  higher  pai'ts  of  windows  constructed  with  mullions  and 
transoms  would  certainly  be  inside  shutters  fixed  by  hinges  to 
the  frame  itself  of  the  glazed  casement.  These  shutters  may  be 
perforated  if  thought  desirable,  or  even  made  of  metal  plates. 
It  would  be  easy  to  open  and  close  them  from  below,  by  means 
of  a  latch  and  cord,  or  a  very  shght  iron  rod. 

But  we  shall  have  occasion  to  enter  more  fully  into  aU  these 
details  in  a  special  work  now  in  preparation  on  "Town  and  Coun- 
try Houses  in  the  Nineteenth  Century"  (L'Jiahitcdion  urhame  et 
des  campagnes  ait  XI X^  siecle) ;  a  work  in  which  specimens  of 
buildings  executed  according  to  inexpensive  plans,  and  suited  to 
incomes  which  are  tending  and  will  tend  more  and  more  in  our 
day  to  a  moderate  average,  will  have  pai'ticular  attention. 

Though  our  requirements  are  perfectly  definite  and  our 
appliances  for  building  are  very  considerable  in  extent  and 
excellent  in  character,  we  have  not  been  able  to  constitute  a 
Domestic  Architecture  any  more  than  to  establish  a  Public 
Architecture.  We  are  hesitating  undecidedly  between  traditions 
which  are  stUl  vigorous  and  associations  which  are  more  or  less 


LECTURE  XIX.  379 

influential,  and  the  necessity  of  satisfying  new  requirements  which 
are  out  of  harmony  with  most  of  those  influences  and  traditions. 
Thence  has  arisen  a  strange  compromise  which  but  very  imper- 
fectly satisfies  the  demands  of  our  times  and  the  requirements  of 
art.  In  fact  a  new  phase  of  genuine  art  does  not  spring  forth 
suddenly  from  an  architect's  brain  ;  such  a  form  can  only  be  the 
result  of  a  series  of  logical  deductions  inseparal^ly  connected. 

The  public  and  the  ai'cliitectural  world  itself  is,  I  think,  too 
much  engrossed  with  questions  of  the  form  of  art  proper  to  our 
time.  This  will  make  its  appearance  gradually  if  the  puljlic,  and 
the  architects  Hkewise,  regard  it  as  their  chief  oliject  when  build- 
ing to  satisfy  the  purely  local  exigencies  or  those  which  result 
from  the  needs  to  be  satisfied.  If  this  method  of  proceeding  does 
not  immediately  furnish  those  harmonious  and  complete  forms 
which  constitute  art,  it  conduces  to  then-  discovery.  Besides, 
there  is  no  other  way  of  securing  them.  All  civilisations  that 
have  possessed  an  art  have  been  obliged  to  commence  in  this 
way.  It  is  thus  that  the  traditions  or  influences  which  must 
have  accompanied  them  at  starting  were  transformed  to  such  a 
degree  as  to  be  recognisable  only  by  archteologists. 

This  phenomenon  is  observable  among  the  Greek  civilisations, 
whose  architecture,  beautiful  and  complete  as  it  is  in  its  various 
expressions,  was  evolved  by  degrees — by  the  due  satisfaction  of 
requirements  resulting  from  a  state  of  society  in  process  of  forma- 
tion— from  those  Asiatic  elements  which  surround  its  cradle.  It 
was  produced  in  the  West  among  ourselves,  when  a  lay  art  arose 
in  the  Middle  Ages,  which  took  as  its  starting-point  the  Gallo- 
Roman  traditions  and  the  transformations  to  which  the  religious 
orders  had  subjected  those  traditions  during  the  period  from  the 
eighth  to  the  thirteenth  century.  If  we  subject  to  analysis 
the  first  attempts  of  those  masters  who  formed  om-  French 
mediaeval  art,  we  perceive  that  the  new  forms  which  arise  and 
evolve  themselves  by  degree  from  the  Romanesque  style  are  due 
to  an  attentive  appreciation  of  the  needs  that  arise  and  theu* 
more  and  more  perfect  satisfaction.  To  seek  for  new  forms  out- 
side this  natural  development  is  to  rush  at  hazard  into  the  way 
of  imitation  and  to  attain  no  other  result  but  compilations  of 
data  without  ever  creating  foi-ms  capable  of  improvement ;  since 
forms  are  capable  of  unprovement  only  thro\;gh  their  havmg 
been  suggested  by  the  exact  appreciation  of  the  properties  of 
the  materials  to  be  employed  and  of  the  method  in  which  they 
are  employed.  No  one  \n\\  deny  in  theory  that  the  various  pi'o- 
perties  of  the  materials  ought  to  be  considered  in  the  form  given 
to  them  when  employed  in  building.  Stone,  marble,  wood,  cast 
or  wrought  iron,  and  the  various  forms  of  baked  clay,  have  widely 
diflerent  properties  :  in  view  of  this  variety  and  even  opposition 


380  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

of  character  in  the  several  materials,  the  forni  which  suits  one  of 
them  cannot  suit  another.  This  bemg  regarded  as  mdisputable, 
it  must,  I  think,  be  granted  that  many  forms  habitually  adopted 
in  our  edifices  take  no  account  of  the  properties  of  the  materials, 
and  can  only  be  referred  to  certain  traditions  which  show  a  want 
of  accurate  knowledge  of  those  properties. 

We  might  seem  justified  in  supposing  that  since  modern 
science  has  carried  the  knowledge  of  the  various  properties  of 
the  material  employed  to  a  high  degree  of  perfection,  our 
builders  would  take  advantage  of  its  researches  to  give  to  the 
materials  forms  bearing  a  due  relation  to  those  properties  :  but 
it  has  not  been  so ;  or  at  any  rate  the  attempts  made  in  this 
direction  have  been  but  timid,  and  exhibit  a  constant  anxiety 
to  introduce  no  alteration  into  the  traditional  forms  bequeathed 
by  anterior  phases  of  art.  Civil  engineers  themselves,  who  had 
been  among  the  foremost  to  extend  the  domain  of  science  in  that 
direction,  were  less  than  others  perhaps,  disposed  to  make  the 
forms  which  they  gave  to  the  material  harmonise  with  its 
properties.  This  has  arisen  from  the  false  dii-ection  given  to 
the  teaching  of  art, — a  teaching  which  only  gives  examples 
boiTOwed  from  former  civihsations,  without  ever  explaining  the 
reason  why  the  forms  and  the  materials  in  which  they  were  pro- 
duced were  originally  adopted. 

The  teaching  of  architecture,  as  carried  on  in  France,  instead 
of  allying  itself  intimately  with  science  and  criticism,  seems 
inclined  to  look  askance  at  both  of  them,  encouraging  them  only 
on  the  condition  of  their  not  encroaching  on  what  it  is  pleased 
to  call  the  traditions  of  "high  art;"  as  if  the  chief  condition 
of  art  in  architecture  as  well  as  in  every  other  department  was 
not  conformity  to  truth  in  adopting  forms  suggested  by  the 
harmonious  concurrence  of  all  knowledge  relating  to  the  depart- 
ment in  question.  And  so  we  hear  it  maintained  in  the  present 
day,  as  it  was  formerly,  that  iron  cannot  be  employed  in  our 
edifices  without  dissembhng  its  use,  because  this  material  is  not 
suited  to  monumental  forms.  It  would  be  more  consistent  with 
truth  and  reason  to  say  that  the  monumental  forms  adopted, 
having  resulted  from  the  use  of  materials  possessing  qualities 
other  than  those  of  iron,  cannot  be  adapted  to  tliis  latter 
material.  The  logical  inference  is  that  we  should  not  continue 
to  employ  those  fonns,  but  should  try  to  discover  others  which 
harmonise  with  the  projjerties  of  iron. 

But  I  would  say  once  more :  the  body  into  whose  hands 
instruction  in  architecture  has  fallen  is  averse  to  reasoning.  It 
regards  reasoning  as  a  heresy ;  its  claims  are  rejected  and 
authority  is  brought  in  to  oppose  it.  But  this  is  not  the  way  to 
enter  on  the  path  of  Progress. 


LECTURE   XX. 


THE  STATE  OF  ARCHITECTURE  IN  EUROl'E — THE  POSITION  OF  ARCHITECTS  IN 
FRANCE — COMPETITIVE  ARRANGEMENTS — CONTRACTS — BOOK-KEEPING  IN 
CONNECTION  WITH  BUILDING-YARDS,  AND  THE  SUPERINTENDENCE  OF  THE 
LATTER. 

AS  regards  the  arts  in  particular,  we  are  in  neither  a  worse 
nor  a  better  position  than  we  were  before  the  late  war ;  and 
the  victories  of  Germany  have  not,  any  more  than  the  incendiary 
practices  that  have  marked  the  invixsion,  advanced  it  a  single 
step  in  the  path  of  civilisation  generally,  or  of  the  arts  in  sjaecial. 
It  will  perhaps  erect  a  few  more  pubhc  buildings  at  Berlin  with 
our  money.  But  will  they  be  more  beautiful  than  those  which 
it  built  before  ?     That  may  be  doubted. 

I  shall  not  be  accused  of  taking  a  too  favourable  view  of  our 
mstitutions  for  promoting  art  any  more  than  of  the  method  of 
official  instruction  which  they  continue  to  pursue,  and  in  which 
with  a  certain  narrowness  of  view  they  have  adopted  some  retro- 
gressive measures  to  avenge  themselves  for  the  decree  of  the 
13th  November  1863,  under  favour  of  the  absorption  of  pubhc 
interest  in  other  matters  and  the  complaisance  of  a  du-ector  of 
the  Beaux  Arts  and  member  of  the  Institute.  These  circum- 
stances are,  in  fact,  of  little  importance  during  the  prevalence 
of  a  pubhc  opinion,  which,  unfavourable  to  such  petty  mtrigues 
of  coteries,  insists  on  eveiythmg  being  brought  to  light.  If 
however  we  calmly  examuie  our  art  institutions,  especially  if 
we  take  account  of  the  progress  of  opinion  among  artists  and 
the  pubhc  at  lai'ge — the  element  in  which  our  art  productions 
originate — and  compare  the  position  of  artists  as  determined  by 
it,  with  that  which  is  assigned  them  in  the  other  countries  of 
Europe,  the  balance  will  still  incline  in  om-  favour. 

Thus,  for  example,  pubhc  attention  has  been  du-ected  to  the 
efforts  made  by  our  neighbours  the  English  to  develop  cesthetic 
studies  and  tastes  ;  and  for  some  years  past  neither  money  nor 
encouragement  of  any  kind  has  been  wanting.     But  with  what 


382  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

results  ?  There  has  been  a  marked  improvement  in  the 
workmanship, — the  material  execution.  But  as  regards  critical 
discernment  and  selection — taste,  in  fact — no  very  great  success 
has  followed.  The  fact  is,  an  art  cannot  be  improvised.  An 
festhetic  discipline  is  the  outcome  of  a  long  course  of  tradition 
handed  down  from  age  to  age.  To  produce  ai'tists  they  must  be 
placed  in  a  contagious  medium,  so  to  speak ;  a  proof  of  which  is 
exhibited  in  the  case  of  the  very  skilful  artists  and  craftsmen 
who  have  left  France  for  some  years,  and  have  then  retixrned  to 
it ;  what  they  produced  after  this  exile  had  lost  all  its  charm, 
all  piquancy,  and  whatever  efforts  they  made  they  could  not 
succeed  in  recovering  that  clear  and  delicate  execution  which 
they  possessed,  without  being  conscious  of  it,  while  they  were 
living  in  a  favourable  medium. 

Art  in  France  enjoys  a  vigorous  \dtality,— it  grows  in  open 
ground  and  free  air  ;  in  fact  it  must  be  so  or  it  would  not  have 
survived  the  artificial  cultivation  which  has  been  imposed  upon 
it  during  the  last  two  centuries.  While  the  hot-houses  thus 
produce  a  great  number  of  uniform  and  feebly-tinted  flowers, 
Nature  from  time  to  time  resumes  her  supremacy,  and  one  of 
these  plants,  more  vivacious  than  the  rest,  breaks  through  the 
glazing  that  is  stifling  it,  expands  its  blossoms  all  brUliant  with 
their  native  tints,  and,  in  spite  of  the  gardener,  flmgs  on  the 
winds  the  seeds  which  will  spring  up  far  and  wide.  They  become 
wild  plants  once  more,  to  the  great  delight  of  all  those  who  prefer 
the  vivifying  odours  of  the  fields  to  the  sickly  perfumes  of  the 
hot-house. 

The  soU  of  France  has  always  been  propitious  to  the  develop- 
ment of  the  arts  ;  what  we  ask  is  that  no  attempt  should  be 
made  to  impose  a  factitious  culture  upon  them,  but  only  the 
means  of  growing  and  blossommg  be  supplied  to  them.  This, 
however,  we  have  not  yet  been  able  to  secure ;  for  we  are 
possessed  with  the  strange  mania  of  making  every thmg  an  object 
of  administration  and  regulation  ;  while  the  political  revolutions 
which  upset  so  many  things  among  us,  but  esj^ecially  our  ways 
of  thinking,  and  our  sense  of  right  and  justice,  have  not  yet 
introduced  the  exercise  of  liberty  into  our  conduct,  or  the  sense 
of  independence  and  individual  dignity  into  our  minds. 

The  State  thinks  itself  bound  to  teach  the  arts  ;  it  recognises 
then.-  importance  and  consequently  regards  it  as  its  duty  to  watch 
over  their  development.  And  nothing  would  be  more  desirable 
if  this  solicitude  were  limited  to  securing  freedom  for  the 
development  of  art  in  its  various  forms.  But  this  is  not  what  is 
really  done  ;  the  State — I  have  often  said  it,  and  I  repeat  it — is 
only  the  secular  arm  of  a  mandariiiate ;  and  if  among  those  whom 
diflerent  govei'nments  have  placed  at  the  head  of  the  admiuistra- 


LECTURE  XIX.  383 

tion  of  the  arts,  some  have  been  found  who  have  had  a  sense 
of  justice  and  an  independence  of  character  suiEcient  to  induce 
them  to  enter  on  liberal  courses,  they  have  soon  been  forced  to 
abandon  this  thankless  position ;  artists  themselves  being 
generally  the  first  to  refuse  the  liberty  offered  them.  Neverthe- 
less French  architecture  still  occupies  the  first  place  in  Europe  — 
such  vitality  has  this  art  among  us.  Besides,  it  must  be  remarked 
that  other  coiuitries  have  not  understood  the  advantawes  attached 
to  liberty  better  than  we  have.  In  England,  for  example,  if 
architects  are  not,  like  those  of  our  own  country,  subject  to  an 
administration  which  is  only  the  instrument  of  a  corporate  body 
of  artists,  and  which  m  the  natural  course  of  things  can  never 
be  anything  else,  they  are  subject  to  the  rigorous  yoke  of  the 
speculative  builders.  Yet  there  is  such  an  amount  of  private 
enterprise  on  the  other  side  of  the  Channel,  and  a  practical  good 
sense  so  fully  developed,  that  young  architects  succeed  in  getting 
their  education  in  spite  of  superannuated  institutions.  In  England 
the  ancient  guilds  still  exist,  though  these  rich  corporations  are 
now  scarcely  anything  more  than  associations  for  charitable 
purposes. 

If  a  young  Englishman  wishes  to  become  an  architect,  his 
father  articles  liim  to  a  master  who  is  more  or  less  worthy  of  the 
title,  and  for  a  hundi-ed  guineas  a  year  this  master  engages  "'  '''"  '•'' 
probably  to  teach  him  what  he  knows  himself  The  pupil  on 
beginning  his  studies  is  bound  by  written  agreement  to  be  at 
the  office  every  day  from  half-past  nine  till  five  o'clock, — on 
Saturdays  only  till  half-past  two, — to  give  his  master  all  his  time, 
not  to  di\a;lge  the  secrets  of  the  craft,  nor  to  do  anything  that 
might  be  detrimental  to  the  interests  of  his  principal ;  to  conduct 
himself  vni\\  due  respect  in  his  daily  relations  with  the  principal, 
and  not  to  "  commit  matrimony"  without  his  consent. 

For  two  years  the  pupil  is  occupied  with  tracing  and  making- 
fair  copies  of  architectural  drawings  and  details  of  execution 
which  are  in  many  cases  begun  by  him  and  finished  by  a  fellow- 
pupil.  If  he  wishes  to  visit  the  buildmg-yards  he  can  do  so  only 
during  his  leisure  hoiu's — and  it  is  obvious  that  these  are  not 
many — or  in  the  absence  of  the  principal. 

Nevertheless,  such  a  pupil,  being  engaged  in  the  practical 
work  of  his  profession  at  the  very  outset,  pretty  soon  acquires 
familiarity  with  building  methods ;  he  becomes  acquainted  with 
the  difficulties  of  execution  and  of  superintendence,  and,  if  he 
is  inteUigent  and  a  worker — the  English  are  generally  such  — 
this  stage  in  his  career  is  of  use  in  training  him  for  his  profession. 
He  has  been  learning  during  this  time  the  methods  followed 
by  his  master,  and  his  way  of  dealing  with  contractors  and 
workmen.     Some  share  of  the  responsibility  has  fallen  to  him, 


384  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

for  if  in  the  details  intrusted  to  him, — in  the  combinations  in- 
volved in  a  building — he  has  left  anytliing  to  chance,  if  he  has  not 
anticipated  all  contingencies  and  fiu-nished  sufficient  explanations ; 
if,  as  the  consequence,  the  wrong  thing  is  done, — he,  the  pupil, 
will  be  blamed,  and  in  this  case  he  I'isks  his  prospects  for  the 
future.  This  course  furnishes  an  education  which  may  not  be  of 
a  high  character,  but  which  produces  men  of  practical  ability, 
and  who  make  a  really  serious  business  of  their  profession. 

In  recent  times  the  students  of  architecture  in  England  liave 
felt  the  insufficiency  of  this  ancient  method,  which  is  a  tradition 
of  the  media3val  guilds,  but  they  have  not  yet  gone  and  asked 
their  Government  to  take  charge  of  their  interests ;  tliey  have 
simply  formed  a  society  which  has  nearly  six  hundred  members 
paying  an  annual  subscription  of  ten  shillings.  Its  meetmgs  and 
classes  ai'e  held  during  the  winter.  They  assemble  once  a  fort- 
night, in  the  evening,  to  discuss  questions  suggested  by  the 
members.  These  discussions  generally  relate  to  the  working  out 
of  conditions  very  minutely  detailed. 

The  classes  are  occupied  with,  first,  elementary  design,  that 
is,  an  executive  sketch  of  a  given  programme ;  the  president 
criticises  the  drawings  which  are  brought  before  him  again  at 
the  next  meeting  with  details  of  construction,  ornamentation, 
etc.  Secondly,  developed  design,  i.e.  compi-ising  plans  of  larger 
extent  or  more  difficult  execution.  Thirdly,  construction  properly 
so  called,  with  exjilanatory  memoranda,  and  details  and  diagrams 
on  the  black-board  in  presence  of  the  class. 

During  the  summer  the  members  of  the  association  visit  the 
buUding-yai'ds  in  small  parties  and  undertake  covirses  of  practical 
trigonometry,  and  sketch  from  nature.  They  read  works  on 
architecture  together  and  comment  on  them,  or  discuss  sugges- 
tions that  may  be  offered.  Prizes  are  given  in  each  of  the 
classes,  which  are  jiublicly  distributed  at  the  beginning  of  the 
year.     There  is  a  library  to  which  the  members  have  access. 

This  is  evidently  a  more  intelligent  and  useful  institution 
than  the  charges  d'ateliers  in  vogue  among  ourselves,  the  con- 
vivialities and  the  oaths  exacted  from  the  new  pupils. 

In  Germany  the  jjosition  of  architects  is  a  more  or  less 
independent  one,  according  to  the  usages  of  different  localities. 
There  is  every  reason  to  beheve  that  Pnissia  will  amalgamate 
the  system  of  regulations  tinder  which  their  body  also  will  be 
allowed  to  jjractise  their  art.  But  Germany  is  subject  to  frigidly 
jjassionate  impulses  which  are  little  propitious  to  the  regular 
development  of  the  arts.  Sometimes  it  will  incline  towards  the 
Middle  Ages,  sometimes  towards  ancient  Greek  art,  not  as  the 
result  of  logical  deduction,  but  as  what  in  France  we  call  a 
fashion;  and  among  the  Germans  fashions  are  tenacious  and 


LECTURE  XX.  385 

intolerant.  It  had  suggested  itself  to  an  intelligent  man,  the  old 
King  Louis  of  Bavaria,  about  forty  years  ago,  to  erect  in  his  good 
city  of  Munich  buildings  imitating  more  or  less  closely  the  Greek, 
Roman,  Byzantine,  Mediceval,  Italian,  and  Northern  architecture 
respectively.  He  was  thus  giving  his  subjects  a  specimen  of  all 
the  architectural  products  of  art  that  could  be  made  available  as 
models,  and  seemed  to  say  to  them  :  "Now  choose."  The  object 
contemplated  was  little  understood  at  Munich  ;  for  the  German 
mind  is  by  no  means  eclectic,  and  Kmg  Louis's  buildings,  which 
moreover  were  erected  according  to  methods  whose  economical 
aspect  was  in  many  cases  little  in  accordance  wdth  the  style  of 
architecture  which  they  profess  to  reproduce,  are  in  fact  only  a 
kind  of"  Exhibition"  of  works  of  art  a  little  more  durable  than 
ordmary  displays  of  the  kind. 

Although  Germany  has  for  some  years  been  deeply  smitten 
with  a  taste  for  the  products  of  Greek  art,  and  has  made  some 
pretensions  to  be  the  continuator  of  the  illustrious  age  of  Greece, 
— considering  itself  the  last  scion  of  the  Aryan  stock,  and  the  only 
genuine  one,  and  consequently  summoned  to  govern  the  whole 
world  still  more  by  its  understanding  and  genius  than  by  its 
arms ;  it  is  none  the  less  imbued  to  the  very  marrow  with  the 
traditions  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  will  find  some  difficulty  in 
securing  that  place  in  Em-ope  which  Athens  occupied  in  the 
ancient  world. 

Helleni2;ers  are  to  be  found  in  Germany,  and  will  continue 
to  be  found  there  ;  but  though  its  genius  may  be  to  a  certain 
extent  compared  with  that  of  the  Macedonians,  and  though  the 
sovereigns  of  Prussia  have  some  points  m  common  with  the 
kings  of  Macedonia,  it  would  be  mistaken  if  it  supposed  itself 
capable  of  taking  the  first  place  in  the  domain  of  the  arts.  The 
instinct  of  intellectual  independence  is  w^anting  in  Germany, 
and  no  development  of  art  Ls  possible  without  it.  The  Teutonic 
architecture  of  the  jNIiddle  Ages,  though  sometimes  displaying 
great  skill,  is  defective  on  the  score  of  dryness  and  monotony, 
though  with  great  pretension  to  effect.  This  architecture, 
moreover,  is  essentially  only  an  imitation  of  our  ancient  French 
ai-t  of  the  commencement  of  the  thirteenth  century,  executed 
by  those  who  do  not  understand  its  dominant  principles  ;  the 
proof  of  which  is,  that  they  do  not  follow  these  principles,  but 
commit  themselves  to  scientific  formulas,  endeavouring  thus  to 
provide  a  substitute  for  that  artistic  instinct  which  they  do  not 
possess. 

The  German  architect  therefore  finds  himself  placed  in  dis- 
advantageous conditions,  as  being  not  destitute  of  method  or 
science,  but  subjected  to  the  fluctuations  of  intolerant  and 
exclusive  fashions,  without  having  for  his  guidance  a  system 
VOL.  n.  2  b 


38G  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

established  on  logical  principles  and  deductions.  He  is  destitute 
of  critical  and  analytic  intelligence  ;  or,  if  this  intelligence  is 
possessed  by  him  individually, — as  often  happens, — he  cannot 
make  it  penetrate  the  refractory  medium  in  which  he  is  placed, 
and  which  is  passionately  devoted  to  changing  abstractions. 

A  philosophical  system  may  be  modified  from  day  to  day  ;  but 
this  cannot  be  the  case  with  an  art  which  is  practically  useful, 
and  which  is  intimately  connected  with  habits  and  manners — 
such  as  that  of  architecture. 

A  style  of  architecture  can  only  be  the  result  of  a  long  series 
of  traditions,  which  have  bound  together  the  individuals  of  a 
nation  in  a  community  of  national  interests  and  feelings ; 
Germany  does  not  yet  present  these  conditions  ;  and  supposing 
that  the  amalcfamation  of  the  German  nationalities  should  be 
accomplished — which  the  philosophy  of  history  scarcely  allows  us 
to  anticipate, — the  Germans  will  have  to  wait  at  least  two  or 
three  centuiies  before  they  can  possess  an  architecture  that 
will  be  the  original  expression  of  theii-  civilisation.  This  gives 
us  some  respite.  But  at  this  date  it  need  not  be  supposed 
that  Germany  will  be  superior  to  us  in  the  power,  sovereignty, 
and  originality  of  its  arts, — at  any  rate  not  of  its  architecture. 

But  while,  strictly  speaking,  a  German  architecture  does  not 
now  exist,  we  find  in  the  countries  which  are  comprised  in 
Germany,  local  developments  whose  merit  is  indisputable. 
Bavaria  offers  excellent  examples  of  domestic  architecture.  The 
same  may  be  said  of  Hanover  and  of  Wurtemberg.  The 
buildings  in  these  countries  which  do  not  as2:)ire  to  be  monu- 
mental accurately  reflect  the  local  customs  and  needs  of  the 
inhabitants.  The  houses,  and  the  smaller  public  buildings,  such 
as  schools,  markets,  and  railway  stations,  are  always  economical 
in  plan,  and  are  executed  with  care,  and  with  a  practical  feeling 
bordering  on  a  certain  amount  of  grace  which  is  somewhat 
severe,  but  is  not  without  its  charm.  The  same  may  be  said  of 
private  houses  in  the  rural  districts.  Rarely  pretentious, 
these  buildings  are  abodes  in  which  nothing  has  been  sacrificed 
to  luxury  or  display,  but  in  which  the  domestic  life  of  the 
inmates  has  left  a  lively  and  original  impress.  They  are 
generally  very  simply,  but  very  well  built.  Of  all  German 
localities,  Vienna  is  certainly  the  most  notable  traditional  centre 
of  art.  Vienna  has  its  academy  and  its  official  school ;  but  it 
is  not  these  to  which  its  artists  owe  their  excellence.  This  is 
owing  to  a  sufficiently  extended  education,  the  result  of  a  pro- 
found study  of  foreign  works, — those  of  Italy,  France,  and 
North-western  Germany.  And  though  the  education  thus 
relatively  extended,  wliich  is  enjoyed  by  the  architects  of 
Vienna,  has  not  yet  produced  the  style  proper  to  the  nineteenth 


LECTURE  XX.  387 

century,  and  to  Southern  Gei-many,  it  has  at  least  enabled 
them  to  erect  buildings  perfectly  suited  to  then-  object,  sensibly 
designed,  quickly  and  very  well  executed,  and  of  very  pleasing 
aspect.  The  Opera  at  Vienna,  among  other  buildings  that 
might  be  mentioned,  took  less  than  eight  years  to  build,  and 
cost  only  i'320,000.  This  vast  erection  is  the  best  and  most 
complete  of  its  kind  in  Europe. 

But  in  point  of  unity  and  origmality  of  style,  Russia  will 
probably  have  secured  its  position  before  Germany.  Russia  has 
long-  found  itself  in  the  favourable  condition  resulting:  from 
unity ;  and  at  the  present  time  it  is  making  eflbrts  of  which  we 
in  France  (in  consequence  of  our  habitual  indifference  to  all  that 
occurs  in  foreign  countries)  ha^"e  little  conception,  but  which 
are  nevertheless  very  earnest.  Russia,  before  the  fashion 
(dating  from  Peter  i.)  was  introduced  among  its  architects  of 
imitating  the  arts  of  the  West,  had  an  art  of  its  own,  an  art 
which  was  coarse  and  unformed,  but  which  had  a  local  character 
and  originahty,  or  if  we  choose  so  to  call  it,  an  autonomy.  It  is 
a  mixture  of  Oriental,  Byzantine,  Tartar,  and  even  Hindoo 
elements,  and  which  had  not  reached  its  complete  development 
when  the  Russian  noblesse  were  smitten  with  a  passion  for  the 
pseudo-Roman  of  the  seventeenth  century.  In  the  present  day 
there  Ls  an  endeavour  to  recover  the  elements  of  that  ancient 
architecture,  and  with  the  aid  of  modern  criticism  to  bring  them 
back  to  those  natural  combinations  which  would  produce  their 
complete  development.  This  is  a  noble  idea,  and  the  higher 
class  of  mmds  in  Russia  recognise  its  importance  ;  they  are 
consequently  setting  themselves  to  work.  Already  schools  are 
being  formed,  and  a  system  of  instruction  is  beuig  organised ; 
and  all  this  without  great  display,  Ijut  with  that  slow  tenacity 
which  characterises  the  Russians,  and  which  ultimately  triumphs 
over  all  obstacles.  Russia  is  seeking  within  its  own  resources 
for  the  elements  favourable  to  the  production  of  an  autonomous 
art ;  and  this  is  a  fruitful  conception,  which,  however,  does  not 
prevent  it  from  carefully  studying  what  is  done  in  other 
countries. 

Italy,  imbued  though  it  is  with  local  traditions  of  undeniable 
power,  does  not  abstain  from  efforts  to  free  itself  from  them,  as 
far  as  they  hinder  the  development  of  the  novel  conditions 
imposed  on  the  architect.  It  is  restoring  ancient  buildmgs  with 
a  highly  developed  critical  intelligence ;  and  this  is  a  step 
towards  the  application  of  the  same  spuit  of  criticism  to  novel 
conceptions. 

Carefully  to  restore  buildings  erected  under  conditions 
different  from  those  amid  which  we  ourselves  are  placed,  is  to 
compel  our  minds  to  pass  through  the  different  phases  which 


388  LECTURES  ON  ARCUITECTURE. 

have  produced  a  certain  development  of  art ;  it  is  to  oblige  our 
reason  to  draw  logical  deductions  which  are  applicable  as  well 
to  the  present  as  to  the  past ;  for  there  is  only  one  method  of 
reasoning.  This  work  of  conscientious  restoration  to  which 
Italy  is  giving  itself  cannot  therefore  fail  to  jjroduce  good 
results ;  especially  as  the  Italians  have  the  good  sense  not  to 
separate  their  architects  into  two  classes, — the  restorers  of  ancient 
buildings  and  the  constructors  of  those  adajated  to  novel  require- 
ments. They  seem  to  judge  that  an  artist  who  is  capable  of 
appreciating  an  ancient  style  of  art,  and  placing  himself  by  a 
course  of  reasoning  in  the  circumstances  which  existed  three  or 
four  centuries  ago,  is  quite  as  fitted  as  any  other, — if  not  more 
so, — for  understanding  the  needs  of  the  present  day  and  con- 
forming his  conceptions  to  them.  It  must  also  be  taken  into 
account  that  the  Italians  have  never  allowed  certain  constructive 
methods  employed  by  them  during  the  Middle  Ages  to  be 
entirely  abandoned,  and  that  they  do  not  repudiate  those 
methods,  as  is  aifected  to  be  done  among  ourselves. 

A  decided  artistic  movement  may  also  be  recognised  in  the 
northern  countries  of  Eorope ;  Belgium,  Holland,  the  Danes 
and  the  Swedes,  are  seeking  by  means  of  the  study  of  local 
traditions,  and  by  appropriating  to  themselves  the  resources 
which  they  are  capable  of  furnishing,  to  trace  a.rt  down 
to  the  present  time.  It  must  therefore  be  acknowledged 
that,  some  devious  movements  excepted,  there  is  a  marked 
tendency  in  Europe  to  discover  an  autonomous  art  for  each 
variety  of  civilisation.  The  principle  of  nationalities  which  is 
destined  to  effect  revolutions  in  the  midst  of  this  old  Europe,  or 
rather  to  produce  political  developments  of  which  our  children 
probably  will  not  see  the  issue,  is  manifesting  itself  even  in  the 
domain  of  art.  Ethnological  and  historical  studies  have  given 
the  impulse  to  this  movement,  whose  significance  as  regards 
the  development  of  civilisation  may  be  disputed,  but  whose 
importance  cannot  be  ignored.  France  has  been  among  the  first 
to  induce  the  nationalities  of  Europe  thus  to  assert  themselves. 
It  has  contributed  to  the  reconstitution  of  Greece  and  Belgium, 
and  has  platonically  defended  the  independence  of  Poland,  and 
by  arms  and  policy  has  aided  Italy  to  secure  its  position  in 
Europe. 

Nothing  is  more  dangerous  than  to  maintain  a  principle,  and 
then  refuse  to  admit  all  its  consequences.  Has  France  acted 
rightly  or  wrongly,  as  far  as  its  own  interests  are  concerned,  in 
niaintainmg  the  principle  of  nationality  in  Europe  ?  Of  course 
I  shall  not  discuss  the  question,  foreign  as  it  is  to  the  subject 
in  hand  ;  I  merely  state  a  fact, — and  this  fact  admitted,  it  is 
impossible  to  ignoi-e  its  importance.     It  seems  more  desirable  to 


LECTURE  XX.  389 

make  the  best  of  the  only  advantages  that  may  still  accrue  to 
us  from  it,  rather  than  to  lament  over  it.  And  the  real  cause 
of  these  advantages  is  the  facility  with  which  France  can  re- 
assert an  autonomy  which  has  been  established  by  length  of 
time,  the  conformity  of  races,  tastes,  customs,  and  one  of  the 
most  favom-able  of  geogi'aphical  situations  that  can  be  conceived. 
In  presence  of  so  many  instances  in  which  nationalities  that 
had  been  obscured  by  political  intrigues  and  a  long  period  of 
neglect  have  vindicated  themselves,  France  ought  to  give,  and 
can  give  to  its  own,  a  power  sufficient  to  protect  it  against 
neighbouring  nationalities.  To  obtain  the  result,  it  must  very 
accurately  appreciate  the  nature  of  its  genius  and  the  resources 
it  can  furnish.  This  is  what  Germany  has  been  doing  for  the 
last  sixty-six  years,  under  conditions  much  more  embarrassing 
than  we  have  been  svibject  to ;  and  the  result  has  been  a  success 
of  a  very  conspicuous  character,  if  not  established  on  solid 
foundations.  How  has  Prussia  attained  this  result?  By 
developing  patriotic  sentiment,  I  allow ;  by  organising  within 
its  domain,  methodically  and  economically,  the  vital  forces  of  the 
country  :  this  I  also  recognise.  But  the  main  cause  of  this 
success  has  been  the  establishment  in  Germany  of  a  kind  of 
systematic  inquiry  into  all  that  is  being  done  in  foreign  lands, 
both  in  the  political  sphere,  and  in  the  arts  of  peace  and  of  war, 
and  in  the  several  branches  of  science.  By  comparison,  and  by 
incessant  friction  against  neighbouring  communities,  it  has 
gradually  assimilated  to  itself  that  which  suited  its  temperament, 
Avhich  it  corroborated  by  ascertaining  the  Aveak  and  defective 
points  of  those  communities.  If  such  a  work  has  been  possible 
in  a  body  pohtic  so  heterogeneous  as  is  that  of  Germany,  what 
might  not  be  effected  in  this  dii-ection  in  a  country  like  our  own, 
all  whose  elements  are  so  firmly  united  by  a  long  course  of  ages  ? 
And  to  come  back  to  the  art  which  is  engaging  our  attention, — 
wliat  is  that  strange  assumption  which  induces  us  to  recognise 
in  it  only  a  cosmopolitan  character,  independent  of  surroundings, 
nationahty,  and  climate  ?  I  fuUy  allow  that  we  should  study  all 
the  forms  of  art  that  have  been  produced  in  ancient  and  modern 
times  under  the  influence  of  certain  media  favourable  to  their 
development ;  but  that  we  can  di-aw  from  these  studies,  indis- 
criminately and  withotit  critical  investigation,  the  elements 
adapted  to  constitute  a  national  art,  is  not  admissible  from  any 
point  of  view.  I  am  quite  content  that  art  should  not  be 
regarded  as  limited  to  one  country  ;  but  each  exjiression  of  art 
should  have  its  own,  and  it  is  not  worthy  to  be  considered  an 
art  except  on  this  condition. 

The  fi'ivolity  with  which  our  neighbours  are  accustomed  to 
tax  us,  and  not  without  some  reason,  is  nevertheless  more  at 


390  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

the  surface  tlian  at  the  bottom  of  our  national  character.  Our 
fault  is  imieh  less  that  of  being  frivolous  than  of  allowing  frivolity 
carte  blanche  among  us,  and  appearing  to  take  seriously  deeds 
and  talk  which  we  know  have  no  real  significance.  Trifles 
which  make  us  smile,  but  against  which  we  do  not  pi-otest,  and 
which  sometimes  amuse  us, — are  taken  beyond  the  frontier  for 
the  expression  of  our  character.  We  thus  endorse  eccentricities 
which  really  attach  only  to  some  obtrusive  individuals,  entirely 
Avrapt  up  in  themselves,  and  who  make  our  inditi'erence  or  com- 
plaisance a  pedestal  on  which  to  display  themselves.  It  is  only 
in  France  that  we  see  in  the  arts,  in  hterature,  and  even  in 
what  is  called  pohtics,  certain  notorieties  gaining  disthictiou  by 
scandalous  or  shameless  conduct. 

There  is  no  country  in  which  boasting  on  every  occasion, 
pronouncing  judgments  at  random,  talking  incessantly  of  one's- 
self,  one's  achievements  and  alleged  merits,  succeeds  so  well  as 
it  does  in  France  among  the  numerous  brotlierhood  of  idlers. 
But  the  thirty-eight  millions  who  compose  the  French  nation 
are  certainly  not  all  members  of  that  fraternity.  There  is  a 
substi'atum  of  good  sense  and  right  feeling, — I  was  going  to  say 
of  honesty, — in  our  country,  which  revolts  against  playing  the 
part  of  either  the  dupers  or  the  duped.  The  great  body  of  the 
public  pass  the  mountebank  stage  of  the  former  and  the  gaping 
wonderment  of  the  latter  with  utter  indifference.  They  simply 
shi'ug  their  shoulders.  But  this  is  not  enough  :  to  keep  aloof  and 
withdraw  into  the  background  in  presence  of  what  is  evil,  im- 
pertinent, or  foolish,  is  to  make  ourselves  its  accomplices,  and 
must  incur  the  penalties  which  wickedness,  folly,  and  impertin- 
ence bring  wnth  them.  We  are  only  too  keenly  experiencing  the 
results  of  this  complicity  just  at  this  moment.  Indifferent  to 
what  has  been  going  on,  or  really  duped  by  it,  we  have  to  pay 
for  the  follies  we  have  allowed  to  be  committed  without  pro- 
testing against  them,  or  which  through  ignorance  or  indolent 
simphcity  w^e  have  approved.  If  this  is  always  to  be  the  case, 
we  must  despair  of  the  future  of  our  country,  and  the  small 
minority  of  those  who  protest  against  such  a  state  of  things  will 
have  no  resource  but  exile,  that  they  may  be  no  longer  the 
accomplices  or  the  witnesses  of  this  moral  decadence. 

The  disasters  we  have  experienced  have  deprived  us  of  our 
prestige  in  Euroj^e  except  in  one  point, — the  productions  of  art. 
This  is  a  trifling  advantage  certainly,  and  a  great  nation  shoidd 
feel  some  repugnance  at  being  no  longer  anything  more  than 
the  amusers  of  the  civilised  world.  But  even  tliis  advantage 
will  be  soon  snatched  from  us  if  we  do  not  exert  the  greatest 
energy  possible,  and  bring  the  gi-eatest  liberalit)'  of  mind  to  bear 
on  the  teaching  of  this  bi'auch  of  intellectual  productivity.     All 


LECTURE  XX.  391 

the  manifestations  of  the  life  of  a  nation  are  interdependent,  and 
intellectual  distinction  goes  hand  in  hand  with  superiority  of 
every  kind.  It  was  in  association  with  political  development, 
profoundly  patriotic  sentiment,  moral  energy,  philosophy,  com- 
merce, and  industrial  energy,  that  the  arts  reached  a  high  degree 
of  excellence  in  ancient  Greece  and  Rome,  and  during  the 
Mediaeval  and  Renaissance  period  in  the  West ;  and  we  cannot 
hope  to  see  the  arts  continue  to  flourish  among  us  when  France 
is  reduced  to  the  lowest  grade  among  civilised  nations.  Al- 
though it  would  be  rash  to  infer  the  future  of  our  country  from 
what  has  taken  place  since  the  end  of  the  war  of  invasion  and 
the  civil  war,  and  though  we  must  leave  the  country  sufficient 
time  to  recover  itself  after  such  crises,  it  would  nevertheless  be 
wrong  not  to  point  out  those  tendencies  which  are  fatal  to 
the  re-establishment  of  that  normal  state  of  things  which  is 
favourable  to  progress. 

We  have  a  republic  .  .  .  but  the  name  is  of  no  consequence 
to  the  practical  bearings  :  we  should  prefer  the  reality  without 
the  name  to  the  name  without  the  reality.  An  oligarchic  or  a 
democratic  republic  may  be  very  favourable  to  the  development 
of  intellectual  efforts,  and  therefore  of  art.  If  it  is  a  democratic 
republic  that  is  established^and  ours  can  have  no  other  form, — 
the  conditions  appertaining  to  this  form  of  government  must  l)e 
supposed,  viz.,  absolute  respect  for  the  laws  of  the  countiy ;  the 
strength  of  the  government  firmly  based  on  these  laws  ;  the 
non-existence  of  privileges ;  the  constant  control  of  all  over 
every  department  of  State  action,  and  responsibility  to  the 
fiUl  extent  of  the  functions  devolving  on  each ;  labour,  super- 
vision, and,  that  such  labour  may  be  earnest,  persevering, 
and  consequently  advantageous  to  the  commonwealth, — the 
inviolability  of  the  fruits  of  labour.  I  do  not  think  there  are 
ten  intelligent  persons  who  would  not  most  heartily  subscribe 
to  these  requirements ;  but  their  realisation  must  be  absolutely 
secured,  since  any  doubt  respecting  their  fulfilment  would  render 
abortive  the  good  promised  by  such  a  social  condition.  Doubt 
paralyses  the  good-will  of  individuals,  whereas  it  is  only  by  their 
co-operation,  without  any  arriere  pcnscc,  that  such  a  social  con- 
dition could  be  established.  And  who  are  they  who  should 
inspire  the  greatest  confidence  ?  Certainly  those  intrusted  with 
the  executive.  It  is  therefore  to  the  accomplislmient  of  these 
requirements  that  their  acts  should  conspire,^ — those  most  insig- 
nificant in  appearance  as  well  as  the  most  obviously  important. 
But  if  the  Executive  or  their  agents  proceed  in  certain  circum- 
stances in  such  a  way  that  their  intentions  may  be  supposed 
hostile,  or  even  indifferent  to  the  accomplishment  of  those  re- 
quirements, doubt  arises  in  the  minds  of  even  the  best  disi)osed, 


392  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

and,  as  the  result,  discouragement  paralyses  the  most  deter- 
mined volition,  and  frustrates  the  best  eftbrts  for  the  restoration 
of  j)ul)lic  prosperity. 

Under  the  last  Empire  considerable  importance  seemed  to 
be  attached  to  the  jirogress  of  art ;  it  was  asserted  in  official 
discourses  that  this  progress  was  one  of  the  sources  of  national 
wealth  ;  much  "  encouragement "  was  given  to  artists,  i.e.  con- 
siderable sums  were  expended  in  supporting  medioci-e  talent,  to 
which  this  tissistance  was  indispensable,  and  wliat  was  entitled 
the  Direction  des  Beaux-Arts  was  a  Board  of  Relief.  Many 
edifices  were  erected,  and  with  a  view  to  satisfying  as  large  a 
nuuiber  of  applicants  as  possible,  they  were  loaded  with  sculp- 
tures outside,  and  decorated  within  on  a  scale  of  luxury  unheai'd 
of  till  then.  The  Empire  seemed  to  wish  to  have  an  ait  that 
should  mark  its  date,  so  that  at  some  future  time  people  might 
say,  "  The  style  of  the  Second  Empire,"  as  we  say,  "  the  style 
of  Francis  I., — of  Louis  XIV."  Has  this  result  been  secured  ?  I 
think  not.  Was  such  a  result  obtainable  ?  Perhaps.  But  it 
could  not  be  secured  by  the  quantity  or  the  sumptuousness  of 
the  buildings  erected,  and  most  assuredly  not  by  spending  so 
much  money  in  "  encouraging  "  mendicity.  The  amount  of  money 
e.Kpended  is  nothmg  to  the  purpose.  The  great  point  is  to 
spend  money, — whether  little  or  much, — only  on  what  is  good. 
The  difficulty  lies  in  knowing  what  really  is  so.  If  those  in 
power  presume  to  be  judges  in  matters  of  such  delicacy,  and 
with  which  they  are  not  well  acquainted,  the  chances  are  that 
they  will  be  deceived,  and  their  mistake  brings  them  into 
discredit,  and  it  is  fatal  to  the  free  and  regular  develop- 
ment of  art ;  if  they  delegate  the  authority  they  possess  to  a 
corporate  body,  it  is  to  be  feai'ed  that  this  body  will  be  only  a 
coterie  much  more  anxious  to  assert  its  own  ideas,  and  especially 
its  own  mterests,  than  to  protect  the  interests  of  the  community 
at  large,  and  the  free  expression  of  the  public  taste.  The  last 
Empire  veered  about  between  the  two  systems ;  sometimes 
endeavouring  to  foster  a  school  of  art  emanating  from  the  Court, 
as  had  been  done  under  Louis  xiv.,  and  sometimes  having 
recourse  to  the  guidance  of  a  body  which  assumes  to  be  the 
highest  expression  of  intellect  in  France,  and  the  guardian  of 
certain  dogmas  which  it  declares  incontrovertible.  In  fact  the 
Empire  satisfied  no  party;  it  provoked  the  ill-will  of  the  In- 
stitute by  not  allowing  it  unlimited  authority,  while  the  time 
had  gone  by  when  the  Court  was  able  to  exercise  any  influence 
whatever  over  intellectual  enterprise.  It  issued  the  decree  of 
the  13th  of  November  1863,  relating  to  the  re-organisation  of 
the  Ecole  des  Beaux-Arts,  which  was  a  feeble  measure,  and  dared 
not  even  put  this  in  execution  as  far  as  its  real  intention  was 


LECTURE  XX.  393 

concerned  in  presence  of  the  hostility  of  the  Institute  ;  so  that 
it  disoi'ganised  the  old  machine,  while  it  did  not  feel  itself 
capable  of  constructing  a  new  one.  To  disinterested  persons  it 
seemed  as  if  the  State  was  endeavouring  to  become  the  sole  and 
uncontrolled  possessor  of  a  power  which  it  declared  the  Institute 
to  have  administered  ill.  And  such  disinterested  persons  could 
not  see  that  the  State  was  more  capable  of  directing  the  teaching 
of  art  than  a  body  consisting  of  persons  competent  in  point  of 
art  itself. 

The  Empire,  which  even  at  this  late  date  possessed  consider- 
able power,  had  only  one  means  of  breaking  with  an  injurious 
system,  viz.,  liberating  the  arts  from  its  own  protection  as  well 
as  from  the  predominance  arrogated  to  itself  by  the  Institute. 
In  a  word,  it  needed  nothing  more  than  to  proclaim  absolute 
liberty  in  the  teachmg  of  the  arts,  reservmg  to  itself  the  right  of 
choosing  among  and  protecting  the  nov^el  developments  which 
such  liberty  could  not  fail  to  originate. 

The  Empire  having  fallen,  those  who  had  combated  the 
liberal  ideas  timidly  advanced  by  it  in  1863,  and  who  for  seven 
years  had  succeeded  in  utterly  defeating  their  effects, — thus 
rendering  them  rather  injurious  than  otherwise,  by  eflecting  the 
most  complete  disorganisation, — were  sure  to  take  advantage  of 
this  disorganisation  which  they  had  persistently  furthered,  to 
tiy  to  bring  about  a  kmd  of  restoration  of  the  older  system. 

Circumstances  have  favoured  them.  Who  woidd  take  the 
trouble  at  such  a  time  of  national  misfortune  to  inquire  whether 
it  is  advantageous  to  the  arts  for  the  Institute  to  be  or  not  to 
be  the  supreme  arbiter  of  the  instruction  and  the  interests  of 
artists  ?  Things  of  a  widely  diflerent  nature  are  absoiliing  our 
attention.  And  so  a  Govei-nment  which  is  called  republican 
is  taking,  or  allowing  to  be  taken,  a  retrograde  step,  and  is 
showing  itself  less  liberal  than  the  Empire. 

If  it  is  possible  for  privileged  bodies  to  exist  under  an  abso- 
lute monarchy  without  great  harm  accruing  to  the  commonwealth, 
because  these  bodies  then  find  a  counterpoise  in  the  power  of  the 
sovereign,  and  are  in  a  certain  degree  subject  to  it,  it  is  not  so 
in  a  re2)ublic ;  for  those  corporations  or  fraternities  constitute 
an  irresponsible  invulnerable  power,  against  which  there  is  no 
counterpoise,  and  against  whose  abuses  there  is  no  remedy.  We 
have  an  imperium  in  imperio,  an  oligarchical  republic  in  the  midst 
of  a  democratic  republic.  And  if,  as  is  the  case  with  the 
Academic  des  Beaux- Arts,  such  a  fraternity  selects  its  own  mem- 
bers, its  standard  soon  becomes  debased, — i.e.  it  seeks  to  recruit 
itself  only  among  mediocrities  who  coidd  not  alter  its  fixed  habits 
or  propose  useful  reforms.  Besides,  it  soon  becomes  the  tool  of 
some  crafty  ambitious  spirit,  which  finds  no  difficulty  in  guiding 


394  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

it  in  favour  of  its  own  ambitions  and  aims.  When  this  is  achieved 
nothing  more  is  needed  that  that  one  of  its  delegates  should  be 
introduced  into  the  administration,  to  make  it,  secretly  or  openly, 
absolute  mistress  of  the  situation,  in  spite  of  the  heads  of  the 
State  and  other  recognised  authorities,  and  in  spite  of  public 
o^jinion  and  the  protests  of  the  few  independent  minds  that  offer 
resistance  to  this  clandestine  tyranny. 

Tliis,  at  the  present  moment,  March  ]872,  is  the  position  of 
artists  and  of  the  arts  in  France,  in  spite  of,  or  rather  under  the 
sanction  of,  our  republican  form  of  government.  For  my  own  part, 
I  feel  no  embaiTassment  in  discussing  the  question,  as  I  ask 
nothing,  hope  for  nothing,  and  desire  nothmg,  except  the  re-estab- 
lishment of  the  prosperity  of  my  country,  and  of  its  moral  dignity 
and  influence  on  the  civilised  world.  I  shall  not  wait  for  my  neigh- 
bour to  speak  before  opening  my  mouth,  or  to  put  his  thoughts 
on  paper  before  ofleruig  mine.  I  say  distinctly  therefore,  and 
without  any  feeling  of  hostility  towards  individuals — for  most 
of  the  members  of  the  Academic  des  Beaux-Arts  are  my  friends, 
and  for  whom  individually  I  have  the  highest  esteem, — the  arts 
in  France  are  rapidly  hastening  towards  their  decline  under 
the  predominance  which,  through  weakness  or  indifierence,  the 
Academy  has  been  allowed  to  take  in  teaching  and  administra- 
tion. This  irresponsible  power  stifles  all  independent  initiative, 
all  indiA-iduality ;  it  is  the  natiu-al  enemy  of  independence  of 
character  and  of  critical  investigation.  By  its  very  nature  it 
is  led  to  foster  the  conventional,  and  to  favour  complaisant 
mediocrity.  It  ostracises  at  its  pleasure  those  who  do  not 
recognise  its  authority,  but  presume  to  act  independently,  because 
it  has  its  connections  everywhere.  IiTCsponsible  and  in\adnerable, 
as  I  have  remarked,  it  never  discusses  a  question,  it  never  gives 
a  direct  reply  to  strictures,  but  pursues  its  object  by  means  of 
every  description ;  for  what  an  individual  would  consider  himself 
disgraced  by  doing,  an  irresponsible  body  may  essay  without  a 
sense  of  shame ;  each  of  its  members,  as  an  isolated  mdividual, 
having  always  the  right  to  regard  himself  as  no  pai-ty  to  a 
decision  adopted  by  the  whole, — a  decision  which  he  perhaps 
reprobates  in  the  secrecy  of  his  conscience,  bi;t  to  wliich  his  \>er- 
sonality  and  name  have  yet  brought  their  contingent  of  support. 

This  state  of  things  is  now  becoming  more  detrimental  than 
ever,  and  it  is  high  time  for  those  who  have  the  fiiture  of  their 
country  and  its  prosperity  at  heart  to  give  it  their  serious 
attention. 

I  can  understand  how  statesmen  should  refrain  from 
discussing  questions  of  art ;  it  is  not  their  business,  and  it  would 
be  as  ridiculous  as  out  of  place  for  them  to  do  so.  But  I  main- 
tain that  it  is  the  duty  of  those  who  are  at  the  head  of  a 


LECTURE  XX.  395 

republic  not  to  leave  its  citizens,  even  were  tliey  in  a  minority, 
to  the  discretion  of  an  irresponsible  fraternity,  even  if  it  consisted 
exclusively  of  the  highest  intellects.  I  tliink  it  the  duty  of  those 
high  functionaries  to  protect  independence  of  chai'acter  in  as  ftu- 
as  that  indejjendence  does  not  encroach  on  the  respect  due  to  the 
laws.  I  think  that  admitting  the  arts  to  be  a  power  in  the 
State,  it  is  through  the  independence  of  the  artist  that  tliey 
advance  and  rise,  and  not  through  a  blind  submission  to  a  kind 
of  secret  authority.  I  believe,  moreover,  that  the  moral  en- 
feeblement  which  is  the  gi-eat  cause  of  our  misfortunes,  results 
in  great  measure  from  the  carelessness  of  former  Governments  as 
regards  respecting,  protecting,  and  honom-ing  that  individual 
independence  wliich  is  the  parent  of  civil  virtues.  That  such 
independence  should  be  regarded  as  troublesome  under  an 
absolute  government  may  be  easily  imagined,  but  that  a  republic 
should  not  make  a  point  of  fostering  it,  should  treat  it,  or  allow 
a  corporate  body  to  treat  it  as  a  pariah,  is  scarcely  conceivable. 

As  respects  architects  in  particular,  some  people  suppose  that 
it  is  enough  to  institute  a  "Central  Society,"  or  some  other 
aggregate  more  or  less  numerous,  to  form  a  corporate  body. 
This  is  a  mistake  ;  a  body,  to  deserve  the  name,  must  consist  of 
independent  individualities.  Now,  it  is  that  very  indejjendeuce 
of  character  which  distingTiishes  the  individual  that  is  wanting 
in  the  architects  of  our  day.  We  speak  of  the  body  of  physicians, 
barristers,  or  engineers,  because  these  bodies  are  in  fact  formed 
only  by  the  miion  of  men  who  have  each  a  sense  of  then-  own 
claims  and  worth ;  who  in  no  circumstance  or  under  any  pretext 
woidd  be  disposed  to  allow  the  independence  of  then"  convictions 
or  character  to  be  infringed.     But  is  it  so  with  our  architects  1 

Under  the  last  Empire  Ave  saw  the  Prefect  of  the  Seine  setting 
to  work  to  organise  mto  a  coi-ps  the  architects  of  the  city  of  Paris, 
— a  step  prejudicial  to  the  jjublic  works  and  the  finances  of  the 
city  as  well  as  to  the  interests  of  the  architects  themselves.  The 
illustrious  Prefect  of  the  Seine  of  that  day  had  a  weakness  for 
organisation.  He  would  say  to  any  who  were  willmg  to  hsten  to 
him:  "  Architecture  is  nothing  else  but  administration  "  .  .  .  that 
he,  though  occupied  with  such  various  cases,  was  as  much  an 
architect  as  you  or  I,  and  that  he  by  no  means  granted  what  was 
claimed  by  architects,  \\z.,  that  if  they  erected  a  public  building, 
they  created  a  work  personal  to  themselves  ;  that  the  edijice 
was  the  work  of  all,  but  particularly  of  him  who  ordered  it  and 
paid  for  it.  This  way  of  looking  at  things,  which  is  harmless 
enough  in  the  case  of  the  townsman  who  has  a  country  box  built 
at  Asnieres  for  himself  and  his  family,  has  produced  disastrous 
effects  in  the  architecture  of  our  times,  and  it  certainly  carried 
the  Prefect  of  the  Seine  fai-ther  than  he  would  have  wished. 


396  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

The  service  d' architecture  of  the  city  of  Paris  was  therefore 
organised  very  much  lilie  our  military  staffs.  There  was  a 
marshal ;  there  were  generals  of  division  and  of  brigade,  colonels, 
commanders,  majors,  and  captains.  To-day  you.  General  A.,  have 
to  conunand  such  or  such  a  brigade  ;  that  is,  build  such  or  such 
an  edifice.  The  convenience  of  the  Government,  or  simply  the 
need  of  displaying  authority,  calls  you  elsewhere  ;  you  leave  your 
brigade  here — I  mean  the  building  you  have  commenced — and 
General  B.  is  called  on  to  finish  it.  .  .  .  That  an  administrative 
intellect  should  form  such  a  notion  of  things  is  natural  enough ; 
but  that  it  should  find  architects  willing  to  lend  themselves  to 
this  extraordinary  constnictive  procedure  is  really  wonderful,  for 
with  such  an  arrangement  what  becomes  of  the  responsibility  of 
the  artist,  or  even  of  the  legal  i-esponsibdity  ?  Which  of  the  two 
is  it  that  guarantees  the  work  ? — the  one  who  begins  it,  or  the 
one  who  finishes  it  ? 

The  Prefect  of  the  Seine  to  whom  I  refer  had  a  truly  suj^erior 
mind,  and  could  appreciate  things  very  fairly  ;  so  that  if  when 
this  administrative  suggestion  came  into  his  mind,  a  man  of 
sense,  courage,  talent,  and  of  an  independent  spirit  had  pointed 
out  to  him  the  injurious  results  of  this  system,  he  would  have 
conceded  the  justice  of  the  representation  and  have  yielded  to 
it.  .  .  .  But  no  one  said  a  word.  Such  a  remonstrant  did  not 
present  himself;  all,  though  certainly  dissatisfied  with  it, 
submitted  to  this  monstrous  arrangement ;  yet  the  Du-ector  of 
the  architectural  staff  for  the  Department  of  the  Seine  was 
careful  to  choose  his  assistants  and  employes — for  we  cannot  give 
the  name  of  architects  to  these  emhri(jades — among  the  laureates 
of  the  £cole  des  Beaux-Arts,  where  administration  is  perhajas  not 
taught,  but  where  great  stress  is  laid  on  submission  to  Academic 
authority. 

And  while  that  arrangement  was  by  no  means  favourable  to 
individual  enterprise  or  the  development  of  original  talent,  and 
while  it  was  little  in  harmony  with  that  independence  of  character 
which  the  artist  ought,  above  all  men,  to  preserve  intact,  it  was 
not  adapted  to  protect  the  financial  interests  of  the  city  of  Paris. 
For  in  building,  the  interests  of  the  client  can  be  guarded  only 
by  the  independence  of  the  architect  he  employs.  The  following 
is  a  proof  of  this  : — 

On  the  20th  of  January  1864,  the  Architects  of  the  Section 
{Sectionnaires) — for  this  was  their  title — received  an  intimation 
whose  purport  was  :  "  that  the  requirements  of  primary  education 
necessitated  the  establishment  in  Paris  of  more  than  fifty  schools  ; 

that   consequently  Mr.    ,    architect  of  the   section,    was 

requested  to  assist  in  his  department  in  jnoviding  the  accom- 
modation required. 


LECTURE  XX.  397 

"  The  Prefect,"  adds  the  circular,  "  does  not  wish  to  huy  or 
to  erect  these  school-buildings  at  the  expense  of  the  city,  but 

commissions    Mr.   ■   1st,    to    look    for    buildings    already 

erected,  combining  the  conditions  required  for  a  school ;  2(i,  to 
prepare  the  stipulations  of  agreements  to  be  made  with  persons 
who  would  undertake  to  erect  buildings  suitable  for  the  purpose 
in  question." 

These  school-buildings  were  to  be  taken  on  leases  of  not  less 
than  twenty  years,  power  being  secured  to  the  city  to  buy  such 
premises  during  the  period  of  the  lease.  The  city  would  keep 
the  buildings  in  repair,  and  jaay  for  furniture  and  other  expenses. 
An  annual  rent  of  five  per  cent,  was  to  be  given  on  the  value  of 
the  ground  occupied,  and  six  per  cent,  on  the  value  of  the 
buildings  prepared  by  the  architects  of  the  city. 

If  the  city  should  think  proper  to  avail  itself  of  the  power 
to  buy,  the  amount  offered  would  be  in  the  one  case  a  sum  equal 
to  twenty  times  the  rent  of  the  ground,  and  in  the  other  case 
sufficient  to  refund  the  cost  of  construction. 

On  receiving  such  imperfect  instructions,  and  which  left 
loopholes  for  abuses  which  it  would  be  superfuous  to  specify, 
ai'chitects  not  so  well  trained  to  obedience  as  those  of  the  city 
of  Paris,  and  who  regarded  themselves  as  coiuisellors  rather  than 
clerks,  would  certainly  have  pointed  out  to  their  chief  objections 
of  no  inconsiderable  weight.  They  would,  among  other  things, 
have  drawn  attention  to  the  fact  that  to  "refund"  the  sum 
spent  on  a  building  erected  in  anticipation  of  a  twenty  years' 
lease,  and  to  be  kept  in  repair  by  a  tenant  who  becomes  the  pur- 
chaser— a  sum  moreover  whose  jaroportion  would  not  be  exactly 
known,  since  the  buildings  in  each  case  were  to  be  paid  for  by 
the  persons  in  question,  and  since  when  bought  they  would  not 
be  pux"chased  at  a  valuation,  which  is  considered  the  equitable 
plan — was  anything  but  a  good  bargain  for  the  city,  for  it  would 
be  safe  to  wager  a  hundred  to  one  that  that  "  refunding  "  would 
be  the  payment  of  a  sum  considerably  greater  than  the  real 
value  of  the  article,  and  was  in  fact  only  a  bounty  offered  to 
speculators  to  induce  them  by  the  offer  of  extraordinary  advan- 
tages— since  they  would  receive  at  once  more  than  five  per  cent. 
clear  on  the  capital  expended,  or  supposed  to  be  expended,  to 
construct  the  school-buildings  in  question.  In  fact,  it  is  one  of 
the  plans  adopted  by  people  who  are  in  difficulties,  and  who  are 
obliged  to  borrow  at  high  interest.  I  am  not  aware  that  any 
architect  of  the  city  protested  against  this  usurioiis  style  of 
borrowing,  or  refused  his  co-operation.  Yet  if  they  could  not 
protest  individually  they  might  have  done  so  in  a  body,  with  all 
the  consideration  required  in  so  delicate  a  matter.  But  the 
Socicte  Centrale,  which  had  manifested  no  disquietude  when  its 


398  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

members  were  formed  into  regiments,  or  in  presence  of  the 
extraordinary  system  adopted  by  the  Prefectoral  administration, 
was  not  likely  to  trouble  itself  about  the  consequences  of  the 
state  of  things  thus  established.  The  Societe  Centrale  deems  it 
enough  to  write  repoi-ts  on  the 2J'>'0spectuses  which  contractors  or 
manufacturers  send  to  it,  or  to  find  fault  with  those  among  its 
members  who  show  a  disposition  to  have  things  reformed.  It  is 
a  mere  antechamber  of  the  architectural  section  oi  the  Academic 
des  Beaux-A  rts,  but  it  is  not  in  itself  a  corporate  body. 

Or  did  the  Societe  Centrale  concern  itself  when,  under  the 
Empii-e,  the  architects  of  the  departments  were  made  absolutely 
dependent  on  the  Prefects,  under  pretext  of  decentralisation  ? 

Was  not  this  the  very  moment  for  expostulating  with  the 
Government,  and  showing  that  this  was  a  measure  which  by 
depriving  the  architect  of  all  independence  in  regard  to  the 
Prefect  might  occasion  the  most  disastrous  abuses  ?  Formerly, 
indeed,  the  nomination  of  the  departmental  architects,  or  their 
recall  by  the  Prefect,  had  to  be  submitted  to  the  Minister  of  the 
Interior.  This  was  a  guarantee  given  to  an  architect  who  should 
conscientiously  fulfil  his  duties,  and  which  enabled  hini  even  to 
refuse  his  co-operation  if  he  thought  that  there  was  an  intention 
to  oblige  liim  to  act  in  a  way  contrary  to  the  interests  of  the 
department.  The  architect  was  thus  attached  to  the  depart- 
mental administration,  and  not  subjected  to  the  caprices  of  a 
Prefect.  This  was  found  embarrassing,  so  that,  under  cover  of 
decentralisation,  an  independent  agent  commissioned  with  the 
administration  of  part  of  the  affairs  of  the  department  was 
replaced  by  an  agent  of  the  Prefect.  And  thus  this  agent  had 
to  comply  with  all  the  requu-ements  of  that  exalted  functionary 
on  pain  of  dismissal, — such  as  clearing  of  credits,  substitutions 
of  expenses,  etc.  If  architects  had  formed  a  body  united  by 
sentiments  of  personal  independence  and  dignity  such  a  state  of 
things  could  not  have  supervened. 

But  to  constitute  one  of  those  bodies  of  which  I  was  speak- 
ing, which  are  able  to  insure  the  dignity,  the  independence,  and 
the  interests  of  their  members,  each  of  those  members  must 
acquire  independence  in  his  own  person,  beginning  by  renouncing 
his  allegiance  to  that  narrow  and  exclusive  domination  which 
the  academic  fraternity  exercises ;  shaking  off  that  continual 
fear  of  displeasing  it,  and  of  acting  apart  from  its  dictation  ;  the 
submission  to  the  caprices  of  chents  and  administrative  bodies  ; 
that  tyranny  which  mediocrity  attempts  to  enforce  in  tlie  school 
on  the  intellects  of  all,  by  prescribing  them  a  limited  path  in 
which  they  will  have  to  move  under  pain  of  ostracism.  Every 
one  is  in  his  conscience  well  convinced  that  he  ought  to  free 
liimself  from  this  yoke ;  but,  as  in  all  other  cases  in  oui-  unliappy 


LECTURE  XX.  399 

country,  where  of  all  vii-tues  civic  courage  is  certainly  the  rarest, 
each  waits  for  his  neighbour  to  begin,  though  ready  to  follow 
when  he  has  received  the  fii-st  fire,  and  if  he  has  not  fallen  under  it. 

Competitions. 

There  has  been  much  discussion  recently  respecting  com- 
petitions. This  question,  which  was  first  raised  m  connection 
with  the  rebuilding  of  the  H6tel-de-Ville  of  Paris,  has  assunied 
a  comprehensive  aspect.  Some  have  declared  themselves 
partisans  of  competition  in  all  such  cases.  Others,  without 
denymg  its  value,  would  limit  it  to  certain  special  cases. 

I  would  not  suggest  a  doubt  respecting  the  sincerity  of  the 
partisans  of  either  opuiion  ;  but  this  question  somewhat  resembles 
that  concerning  compidsory  education.  It  is  not  enough  to 
decree  compulsoiy  instruction, — it  is  desu-able  at  the  outset  to 
know  whether,  when  the  law  is  promulgated,  schools  and  masters 
will  be  immediately  forthcoming  in  numbers  sufficient  to  make 
legislation  practically  eflicient. 

It  is  deshable  to  establish  competition  as  a  principle  in  the 
case  of  all  new  arcliitectm-al  works.  But  that  such  competition 
shall  give  useful  results,  we  must  suppose  competitors  ;  and  that 
the  competitors  may  be  worthy  and  in  earnest  we  require  a  jury 
of  arbitrators  such  as  can  give  these  competitors  every  security 
for  impartiahty,  and,  which  is  of  greater  importance,  for  capacity. 

Befcrre  establishing  competition  as  a  principle,  therefore,  we 
must  think  about  finding  competitors.  And  to  find  competitors 
we  must  find  judges. 

We  are  quite  disposed  to  allow  that  in  France  a  decree  of 
the  Legislature  is  quite  sufiicient  to  estabHsh  a  new  order  of 
things.  And  yet  oiu"  Ofiicial  Report  of  Laws  is  cranmied  with 
decrees  that  have  never  been  put  in  execution,  because  they 
found  themselves  in  presence  of  a  void. 

Among  the  recent  reports  and  documents  that  have  been 
published  in  reference  to  competitions  generally,  and  the  com- 
petition relating  to  the  rebuilding  of  the  Hotel-de  Ville  in 
particular,  one  of  the  arguments  advanced  by  those  who  were 
opposed  to  competitions  was  this  :  "  There  wili  be  no  competitors 
among  architects  of  real  abihty ;  these  will  not  be  wilhng  to 
risk  losing  half  a  year's  labour  and  compromising  then-  rej^utation 
to  some  extent  should  they  fail  in  a  pubhc  trial."  The  argument 
is  a  i-easonable  one,  considering  the  precedents  and  the  actual 
state  of  tilings.  But  it  would  perhaps  fall  to  the  ground  if  we 
broke  with  those  precedents  and  altered  the  state  of  things. 

We  may  observ^e  m  the  first  place  that  competitions  in  the 
case  of  buildings  of  a  rank  deemed  secondary,  either  in  import- 


400  LECTURES  OX  A  RCHITECTURE. 

ance  or  situation,  have  generally  yielded  excellent  results  ;  but 
that  it  has  not  been  so  in  the  case  of  competitions  which,  from 
their  exceptional  importance,  specially  attracted  the  attention  of 
the  public,  and  which  would  inunediately  place  the  successful 
candidate  in  a  position  of  vuijiaralleled  distinction. 

For  the  former  it  is  easy  to  find  an  impartial  jury  uninfluenced 
Ijy  any  consideration  foreign  to  the  matter  in  hand ;  but  for  the 
latter  this  is  much  more  difficult.  In  the  latter  case  the  jui'ies 
resemble  those  "  conclaves  "  in  which  all  the  judges  have  a  secret 
imderstanding  that  such  or  such  a  one  shall  not  be  the  winner, 
to  whom  the  name  of  the  victor  is  of  little  importance,  provided  it 
be  neither  a  Barberini,  nor  a  Doria,  nor  a  Chigi.  Such  is  human 
natvire,  and  we  shall  not  be  able  to  change  it  by  estal)llshing  a 
republic.  And  the  more  distinguished  and  capable  the  judges 
are,  the  more  firmly  do  they  hold  to  their  own  ideas  ;  and  their 
conscience  is  so  entirely  guided  by  their  passions  that  they  think 
they  act  for  the  best,  not  by  giving  the  palm  to  the  most 
meritorious,  but  by  preventing  such  or  such  a  one  from  obtaining 
a  great  advantage.  In  a  question  of  art  they  honestly  fixncy 
that  they  ought  to  make  the  chief  consifleration  tliat  which  they 
regard  as  a  matter  of  principle.  It  is  of  trifling  importance  to 
them  that  N.,  who  is  quite  unknown  to  fame,  and  whose 
capacity  is  questionable,  secures  the  prize,  provided  M.  iloes 
not  get  it :  for  if  M.  were  successful  the  whole  world  would  in 
their  view  be  subverted,  or  at  least  the  whole  future  of  the  great 
art — the  art  they  love — would  be  compromised  ;  t\\e  remainder 
of  their  existence  would  be  full  of  bitterness.  I  have  had  the 
good  fortune  to  be  present  at  one  of  these  famous  judgments, 
and  I  must  say  that  never  in  my  life  have  I  seen  a  more  inter- 
esting comedy,  or  one  in  which  the  human  heart  was  more  clearly 
revealed  in  spite  of  the  endeavour  of  each  to  hide  from  his 
fellows,  and  perhaps  from  his  own  conscience,  the  real  character 
of  his  thoughts.  Here,  as  in  all  such  cases,  the  chief  aim  was  to 
prevent  the  success  of  those  competitors  whom  the  vox  ■populi  in 
the  simplicity  of  its  judgments  expected  to  conquer.  And  when, 
as  always  happens,  a  name  was  pronounced  which  the  public 
little  expected,  and  for  which  the  jury  themselves  were  as  little 
prepared  before  the  decision,  the  joy  manifested  on  a  good  many 
countenances  was  a  flash  of  light  that  penetrated  to  the  inmost 
thoughts  of  each,  and  laid  it  bare. 

In  competitions  for  very  important  buUdings  where  are  we 
to  look  for  judges  ?  In  the  first  instance,  and  this  is  natural 
enough,  among  the  members  of  the  Institute.  But  these  gentle- 
men, though  sometimes  they  are  not  very  sympathetic  with  each 
other,  are  certainly  agreed  on  one  point,  viz.,  to  put  out  of  court 
every  competitor  who  is  in  no  way  affiliated  to  their  body. 


LECTURE  XX.  401 

There  arises  tliis  dilemma,  tlierefore  :  they  would  not  prefer  to 
vote  for  one  of  their  equals,  supposing  there  were  one  among  the 
competitors.  And  they  would  never  vote — this  is  a  matter  of 
prmciple — for  a  comjietitor  who  had  opposed  then-  doctrines, — if 
the  name  "doctrme"  can  be  applied  to  the  ostracism  which  con- 
demns all  individual  independence.  And  since  we  can  haidly 
expect  to  find  great  cajsacity  except  among  the  members  them- 
selves of  that  body,  or  among  those  who  evidently  ignore  their 
influence,  the  chances  are  that  they  will  vote  for  some  obscure 
mediocrity  whom  they  will  thus  suddenly  raise  to  distinction. 
Such'fraternities  by  their  very  natm'e  incline  to  discover  an 
unknown  talent  rather  than  recognise  one  already  acknowledged, 
and  in  which  they  have  a  rival.  And  should  this  unrecognised 
talent  be  a  mere  nonentity,  so  much  the  better ;  it  will  owe  its 
distinction  to  the  selection  that  has  brouoht  it  to  light.  It  is 
an  example  of  "  prevenient  grace,"  and  corporate  bodies  like 
nothing  so  mucli  as  to  play  the  jiart  assigned  by  some  to 
Providence. 

The  public  which  does  not,  and  cannot,  peep  behind  the 
scenes,  is  generally  amazed  at  these  awards ;  but,  good-natured 
French  pubhc  as  it  is,  and  long  since  habituated  to  consider  all 
that  emanates  from  any  authority  as  for  the  best,  it  applauds 
the  blunders  of  the  laureate,  for  which  it  will  certainly  have  to 
pay  veiy  dear. 

In  the  second  place,  for  very  shame,  and  that  they  may  make 
some  show  of  impartiality  before  that  same  public,  the  admini- 
strative boards  which  adopt  a  competition  in  the  case  of  some 
very  important  affair,  and  often  with  a  view  to  cover  their  own 
responsibility,  add  the  names  of  architects  who  are  not  members 
of  the  architectural  section  of  the  Institute  to  the  best  of  those 
who  are.  Generally  these  are  a  minority ;  but  even  if  they 
formed  a  majority,  the  vote  would  be  most  frec^uently  in  accord- 
ance with  that  of  the  members  of  the  fraternity,  and  it  would 
be  given  the  more  readily  as  there  would  be  aspirants  to  the 
Academic  chair  among  those  whose  names  were  thus  added.  I 
have  myself  been  a  \Adtness  of  the  facts  I  state  here  without 
any  concealment  (this  will  certainly  be  allowed)  ;  so  that  on 
several  occasions  having  satisfied  myself  of  the  isolated  position 
of  the  independent  additions  to  the  members  of  the  fraternity, 
and  those  aspirants  to  its  membership  who  join  their  vote  with 
it,  I  have  thought  it  preferable  to  hold  myself  aloof 

This  is  the  way  in  which  juries  have  been  selected  for  important 
competitions  in  the  past.  Will  the  same  course  be  pursued  in 
future  ?  If  so,  we  must  expect  to  find  no  candidates  among 
architects  of  eminence  ;  we  shall  have  nothing  but  mere  school 
competitions.     Something  unquestionably  may  probably  come  of 

VOL.  II.  2  c 


402  LECTURES  ON  ARCUITECTURE. 

them,  but  we  may  well  doubt  it.  Tii  any  case  it  is  evident  that 
architects  whose  position  is  established  will  not  go  and  benevo- 
lently thrust  themselves  into  such  a  wasps'  nest,  knowing  as  they 
do  that  their  acknowledged  capacity  and  acquired  experience, 
and  the  scrupulous  attention  they  will  pay  to  the  interj^retation 
of  the  programme,  the  carefulness  of  their  estimates,  and  the 
exact  accordance  of  their  jalans  with  such  estimates,  far  from 
giving  them  a  chance  of  success,  will  be  a  reason  for  excluding 
them  ;  for  the  more  decided  proof  they  give  of  their  capacity,  the 
less  likely  are  their  plans  to  be  approved,  for  the  very  reason 
that  the  fraternity  is  opposed  to  competitions.  Dominating  over 
the  Administration,  it  considers  it  unseemly  that  the  Government 
should  not  select  the  architect  for  a  great  work  among  its 
members  ;  it  therefore  takes  care,  and  always  will  take  care, — its 
interest  impels  it  to  do  so, — that  competitions  shall  be  abortive, 
either  in  point  of  art  or  from  an  administrative  and  financial 
point  of  view. 

The  safest  plan  in  the  world  in  which  we  live  is  never  to 
expect  from  people,  and  especially  from  bodies  that  have  no 
individual  responsibility  to  incur,  efforts  of  disinterestedness  or 
heroism — shall  I  call  it, — w^hich  are  never  other  than  exceptional. 
And  to  ask  of  artists  who  have  a  just  or  an  exaggerated  sense 
of  their  own  talent,  who  have  obtained  from  their  equals  the 
highest  post  of  distinction,  and  who  cherish  the  veiy  laudable 
ambition  of  attaching  their  name  to  some  work  of  public  import- 
ance,— who  during  their  whole  lives  have  entertained  the  hope 
of  finding  a  favourable  occasion  for  showing  what  their  abilities 
are,  or  what  they  conceive  them  to  be, — who  have  the  passions 
attaching  to  a  school  or  a  coterie,  their  antipathies  and  rivalries, 
— that  they  should  see  without  a  certain  degree  of  bitter  feeling 
this  so  much  coveted  opportunity  sli^iping  from  their  grasp  ;  that 
they  should  even  themselves  aid  in  its  being  granted  to  another 
more  capable,  or  equally  capable,  is  to  require  of  human  nature 
more  than  it  can  give  ;  it  is  to  tempt  virtue,  a  course  always 
vmdesirable  and  dangerous. 

What  then  is  to  be  done  ?  How  can  we  compose  a  jury  if 
we  decide  positively  that  in  the  case  of  every  new  public  building 
competition  shoidd  be  allowed  ? 

But  we  must  ask,  in  the  first  place,  whether  the  plan  of 
competition  is  really  the  best,  and  whether  it  should  be  always 
adopted.  Good  or  bad,  this  is  the  plan  now  favoured,  and  it  will 
be  difficult  not  to  adopt  it  cordially.  It  may  be  gi'anted  that  in 
a  case  of  resumption  of  work  once  commenced,  or  of  adaptation 
of  existing  structures,  or  of  the  restoration  of  old  buildings, 
competition  would  be  superfluous, — -would  serve  no  purpose, — and 
that  in  this  case  tlie  niost  reasonable  plan  would  be  to  choose  a 


LECTURE  XX.  403 

mail  of  recognised  ability.  It  would  seem  to  follow,  as  indeed  in 
the  case  above  referred  to — the  restoration  of  the  H6tel-de-Ville 
— that  competition  in  such  a  case  w^ould  be  inapplicable.  But  if 
a  building  entirely  new  has  to  be  erected,  a  country  whose  whole 
political  system  is  based  on  universal  suffrage  can  find  no  sound 
reasons  for  refusmg  to  adopt  the  plan  of  competition,  not  only  in 
designs  for  arcliitectural  works  of  the  usual  order,  but  in  Govern- 
ment works  generally, — in  military  constructions,  etc. 

If  we  adopt  competition,  however,  we  imply  competitors  and 
judges  ;  and  the  existence  of  competitors  presupposes  instruction. 
If  we  would  have  a  worthy  competition,  we  must  have  capable 
competitors  ;  we  require  a  thorough  course  of  mstruction. 

In  the  present  state  of  things  the  instruction  which  the  State 
gives,  or  which  it  is  supposed  to  give,  to  young  architects, — an 
instruction  whose  direction  it  has  just  replaced  in  the  hands  of 
the  Institute,  after  having  made  a  timid  and  unsuccessful  attempt 
to  withdraw  it  from  the  direct  influence  of  that  body, — this 
instruction,  I  say,  is  not  of  a  sound  and  thorough  character ;  it 
is  not  in  accordance  mth  our  social  organisation,  nor  with  the 
methods  of  construction  introduced  by  the  manufacturing  skill 
of  the  day,  nor  with  the  requirements  of  economy  and  adminis- 
trative rigour,  nor  with  those  methods  of  reasoning  by  which 
civUisecl  countries  must  be  unceasingly  guided  if  they  would  not 
forfeit  their  position. 

We  have  reached  in  France  that  critical  state  of  affairs  in 
which  every  question  that  is  raised,  raises  in  its  turn  a  thousand 
others.  Our  old  machine  used  to  go  "  after  a  sort,"  thanks 
specially  to  the  fact  that  no  one  dared  open  the  case  that  con- 
cealed its  works,  to  examuie  the  state  of  them.  Or  if  any  one 
chanced  to  lift  a  panel  of  the  casing,  all  shut  their  eyes,  crying, 
"Anathema."  .  .  .  But  the  old  turnspit  has  been  violently 
dislocated,  it  must  be  repaired.  .  .  .  But  no  !  we  must  make  up 
our  minds  to  the  sacrifice  whether  we  will  or  not ;  the  turnspit 
cannot  be  mended  ;  another  must  be  made,  and  that  in  all  haste, 
for — the  meat  is  burning  ! 

The  question  of  "compulsory  education"  is  being  raised.  It 
seems  a  very  simple  matter  to  enforce  the  attendance  of  all 
children  at  school !  But  the  question  immediately  arises,  as  I 
was  just  saying,  of  school-buddings  that  have  to  be  erected,  and 
schoolmasters  who  are  not  yet  forthcoming ;  of  the  financial 
means  for  erecting  those  buildings  and  paying  those  masters ; 
the  question  of  normal  schools  for  training  them  ;  whether  the 
teaching  shall  be  in  the  hands  of  laymen  exclusively,  or  lay  and 
clerical  according  to  the  wish  of  parents  ;  the  question  which 
necessarily  follows,  of  the  separation  of  Church  and  State ;  the 
question  of  children's  labour  in  factories  or  in  the  fields ;  and 


404  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

that  which  is  connected  with  it,  of  the  ohhgation  to  indemnify 
parents  who  may  be  old  or  infirm,  or  very  poor,  or  whose  famihes 
are  very  Lirge,  and  who  are  consequently  dependent  on  theii" 
children's  labour.     But  I  leave  these  considerations. 

If  the  principles  of  taxation  are  discussed,  immediately  a 
hundred  other  vital  questions  present  themselves.  It  is  the 
same  with  everythmg  we  chance  to  touch.  In  fact  we  have 
before  us  an  old  worm-eaten  world ;  we  no  sooner  lay  a  finger 
on  one  point  to  repau-  a  damage,  than  the  part  restored  obliges 
us  to  renew  everything  aromid  it  to  make  it  hold ;  it  cannot 
be  fixed  in  decay. 

But  to  return  to  the  subject  of  competitions  :  We  might 
reasonably  say  to  those  w^ho  take  charge  of  the  teaching  of 
architecture  in  France  :  "Begin  by  training  men  for  us  who  are 
able  to  present  something  better  in  the  way  of  competition  than 
mere  exhibitions  of  pictures ;  for  what  is  required  is  not  send- 
ing young  men  to  Italy  at  the  expense  of  the  Government,  but 
providing  buildings  that  shall  be  usefid,  that  shall  supply  a  felt 
want ;  for  which  we  pay,  and  which  we  therefore  wish  to  have 
well  constructed,  and  in  every  sense  reasonable."  We  might 
say  to  those  who  are  appointed  judges  m  these  competitions,  or 
who  are  chosen  to  watch  the  buUding  of  jjublic  edifices  as  super- 
intendents, "  Consider  that  while  such  a  nation  as  France  ought 
to  possess  monumental  structures  indicating  its  greatness,  the 
nation  has  to  pay  for  them ;  that  it  is  therefore  of  the  first 
importance  not  to  spend  its  money  uselessly, — not  to  ruin  it 
under  the  pretest  of  honom-ing  it,  and  not  with  a  view  to  do  an 
ill  turn  to  the  advocates  of  competitions  to  choose  that  com- 
petitor who  offers  the  fewest  substantial  guarantees  of  ability, 
and  who  \\all  compromise  the  afiau'." 

Must  we  then,  in  ^dew  of  these  difficulties  that  accumulate 
around  every  question  that  is  raised,  resign  ourselves  to  inactivity 
and  yield  to  discouragement  ?  Certainly  not.  "  Sufficient  unto 
the  day  is  the  evd  thereof,"  and  in  the  case  of  every  undertaking, 
however  difficidt  it  may  appear,  if  we  woidd  accomphsh  it  we 
must  make  a  begmnmg  somewhere. 

Let  us  then  use  the  elements  we  possess,  but  so  as  to  derive 
from  them  a  maximum  of  advantage. 

To  secure  really  strenuous  and  productive  competitions,  in 
wliich  undoubted  talent  wUl  be  displayed,  and  that  we  may  not 
give  ourselves  up  to  mere  hazardous  results  under  colour  of  such 
competitions,  we  must  therefore  ofier  attractions  to  talent ;  but 
we  cannot  attract  talent  unless  guarantees  ai'e  presented  that 
time  and  reputation  shall  not  be  sacrificed  to  rancour,  rivalry, 
perhaps  to  mere  imbecility  of  judgment  or  volition. 

If  the  Institute  had  not  the  complete  control  of  instruction, 


LECTURE  XX.  405 

and  of  all  the  important  positions,  through  the  pressure  it  can 
bring  to  bear  on  the  administration,  the  plan  of  ha\dng  the  jury- 
nominated  by  the  candidates  themselves  would  offer  sufficient 
guarantees.  But  in  the  present  state  of  things  this  plan  would 
not  secm-e  to  competitors  not  connected  \\\t[\  the  fraternity  a 
jiu-y  whose  impartiality  would  be  beyond  question. 

And  as  the  majority  of  the  candidates  woidd  be  evidently  in 
the  rank  of  mediocrity,  it  would  nominate  a  jiuy  favourable  to 
that  mediocrity. 

It  must  be  noticed  that  for  the  erection  of  a  new  building  it 
is  of  the  greatest  importance  to  choose  a  capable  man,  not  to 
please  such  or  such  a  school  or  coterie.  But  such  a  capable 
person  might  chance  to  be  completely  isolated,  unconnected  with 
any  body  of  the  kind. 

We  cannot  reckon  therefore  upon  any  such  body  choosing 
such  a  man,  whereas  the  jmies  nominated  by  artists  themselves, 
in  the  case  of  a  competition,  always  contain  a  majority  belonging 
to  a  coterie,  whether  from  among  the  members  of  the  Institute 
or  outside  it ;  and  impartiality  of  judgment  would  none  the  less  be 
compromised.  The  formation  of  a  jury  by  lot  from  a  list  of  per- 
sons distinguished  in  the  arts  would  be  preferable  to  the  system 
of  election ;  but  even  with  tliis  method  the  chances  are  many 
that  an  isolated  candidate — one  with  no  connections — though 
perhaps  the  most  talented,  and  in  all  respects  the  most  capable, 
would  not  be  chosen.  It  might  be  supposed  that  competitions 
— I  have  in  -view  only  those  which  have  great  notoriety, 
and  are  likely  to  excite  lofty  ambitions — would  generally  bring 
into  notice  talent  which  had  been  "  ignored,"  which  had  grown  up 
in  obscurity,  but  which  possessed  remarkable  j^ower  and  originahty. 
But  this  is  not  the  case,  for  the  reasons  sufficiently  discussed 
above.  Celebrated  competitions  sometimes  place  an  obscm-e 
indi^■idual  on  a  pedestal,  but  not  because  he  shows  in  the  works 
he  exhibits  proofs  of  high  capacity,  so  much  as  because  he  is  a 
kind  of  neuti-al  gi'oimd  on  which  the  rival  powers  of  wliich  the 
jury  consists  can  in  any  case  come  to  an  understanding  with  a 
view  of  avoidmg  what  they  dread  before  all  tilings, — the  selection 
of  a  distmguished  name, — a  man  of  real  ability.  And  yet  a  jury 
consisting  of  men  of  real  emmence,  whatever  passions  may 
animate  them  when  examuiing  the  woi'ks  exhibited,  will  generally 
bring  to  the  discussion  sound  reason  and  just  appreciation  :  for 
among  those  who  practise  the  same  art  or  the  same  calling  there 
are  questions  respectmg  which  those  whose  opinions  are  the 
most  opposed  agree.  And  in  architecture  in  particular,  which 
involves  not  only  an  art,  liut  positive  science,  practitioners  can 
scarcely  avoid  agreeing  in  some  miportant  points.  In  decisions 
of  this  kind,  therefore,  we  observe  jiu'ies  apparently  yielding  to 


406  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

the  soundest  reasons,  admitting  certain  incontestable  qualities, 
and  agreeing  as  to  certain  equally  obvious  faults  on  the  part  of 
such  or  such  candidates,  yet  voting  in  a  direction  absolutely 
opposed  to  the  judgments,  favourable  or  unfavourable,  which 
that  discussion  seemed  to  have  elicited,  and  which  seemed  certain 
to  direct  the  opinion  of  the  judges.  As  a  practical  man  or  an 
artist,  the  juror  submits  to  evidence  and  to  the  sound  reasoning 
advanced  in  one  du-ection  or  the  other ;  but  as  a  man  he  votes 
accordmg  to  his  passions. 

In  order  that  the  merits  of  the  candidates  might  be  appre- 
ciated as  equitably  as  possible,  a  discussion  should  be  held  in 
presence  of  their  works,  between  professional  men  of  acknow- 
ledged capacity,  and  able  to  exhibit  the  reasons  for  then- 
preference  or  censure ;  and  this  discussion  should  be  listened 
to  by  a  jury  commissioned  to  give  its  votes  in  favour  of  the 
candidate  whose  merits  that  exammation  had  established. 

What  can  we  suppose  would  be  the  fate  of  defendants  m  our 
Courts  of  Assize  if  they  were  to  be  tried  liy  the  counsel, — the 
Attorney-General  and  the  barristers  engaged  on  the  trial  ?  Yet 
this  is  the  very  position  in  which  architects  are  placed  in  the 
competitions  in  question. 

It  would  be  safe  to  wager,  a  priori,  that  before  examining 
the  plans,  each  juror  has  made  up  his  mind,  and  has  said  within 
himself,  that,  whatever  happens,  he  will  not  vote  in  favour  of 
so-and-so. 

The  fiction  accordmg  to  which  the  judges  are  supposed  not 
to  know  who  are  the  competitors  on  such  an  occasion,  especially 
when  the  decision  is  an  important  one,  is  puerile.  There  is  not 
a  member  of  the  jury  summoned  to  decide  competitions  of  this 
kind  who  does  not  know  the  name  of  the  artist  which  tlie  motto 
is  presumed  to  conceal. 

It  would  therefore  be  desirable  to  abandon  this  hypocritical 
custom,  which  only  lends  a  veil  of  impartiality  to  the  passions 
which  determine  the  judgment.  This  puerile  fiction  being 
discontinued,  and  the  candidates  being  no  longer  sup]iosed  to 
be  thus  concealed,  it  would  be  reasonable  that  they  sliould  be 
called  on  to  explain  these  plans  themselves,  and  the  means  of 
execution  they  propose  to  adopt.  There  is  notliing  impractic- 
able in  this. 

Of  a  considerable  number  of  plans  exhibited  there  will  be  at 
least  three-fourths  which,  from  their  manifest  inferiority,  are  put 
out  of  the  discussion  and  will  not  bear  exammation. 

A  very  limited  number  of  plans  will  remain,  which  will  give 
occasion  to  the  warmest  debate,  and  among  which  it  will  be 
difficult  to  choose  the  best  from  all  j^oints  of  view.  And  at  this 
stage — even  supposing  in  the  case  of  the  juror  an  impartiality 


LECTURE  XX.  407 

equal  to  Lis  capacity — an  incomplete  or  unattractive  presenta- 
tion, or  an  arrangement  not  clearly  understood  by  the  judges, 
will  set  aside  a.  design  which  nevertheless  from  the  practical  side 
has  veiy  commendable  characteristics. 

Besides,  it  must  be  observed  that  the  more  capable  an 
architect  is,  the  more  clearly  does  he  perceive  the  difficulties 
accumulated  in  a  programme  of  requirements  and  the  means  of 
execution  to  be  employed,  and  the  greater  is  his  embarrassment 
in  explaining  the  solutions  which  he  proposes ;  whereas  a  mediocre 
artist,  who  has  no  doubt  about  anything — and  there  are  cases 
in  point — has  no  difficulty  in  displaying  his  limited  appliances. 
He  does  not  seek  to  solve  difficulties  which  he  does  not  even 
foresee,  and  his  design  on  paper  is  marked  by  the  confidence  he 
feels  in  his  own  strength.  The  judges  are  but  men,  and  they 
generally  resemble  other  men  in  not  liking  to  take  too  much 
trouble.  If  a  certain  part  of  a  design  exhibited  does  not  seem 
to  them  perfectly  clear,  they  conclude  that  the  author's  intention 
was  not  clear  to  himself.  Many  of  the  judges,  even  if  capable 
men,  do  not  represent  to  themselves  the  effects  which  wdl 
result  in  the  execution,  but  merely  look  at  the  design  as  drawn. 
Many  do  not  trouble  themselves  to  inquire  whether  the  plans, 
sections,  and  elevations  are  in  perfect  agreement.  Others  take 
DO  account  of  the  means  of  execution  ;  and  no  one  examines  the 
estimates  carefuUy  to  see  whether  they  exactly  tally  with  the 
designs  as  drawn. 

If  the  competitors  were  severally  called  to  explain  their 
designs,  and  to  state  the  reasons  which  led  them  to  adopt  such  or 
such  an  arrangement,  to  state  the  means  of  execution  they 
intended  to  adopt,  and  the  relation  of  the  estimates  to  the  draw- 
ings, an  entirely  new  light  would  be  thrown  on  the  matter,  and 
it  might  happen  that  a  plan  which  met  with  disdain  at  first 
sight  would  be  put  in  the  first  rank. 

Still,  the  examiners  ought  not  to  vote  ;  the  verdict  should  be 
given  by  a  jury  of  persons  of  repute,  who  have  not  been 
architectm-al  practitioners  at  all,  or  who  have  ceased  for  some 
time  to  be  so,  and  who  would  be  present  at  the  discussions  of 
the  artists  respecting  the  designs  submitted,  and  the  examina- 
tions to  which  they  would  subject  the  candidates  respecting 
their  own  plans. 

We  will  not  affirm  that  this  mode  of  proceeduig  would 
be  perfect, — unfortunately,  human  judgments  are  rarely  irre- 
proachable ;  but  tills  method  woidd  at  least  give  sufficient 
guarantees  to  attract  capable  artists,  and  it  would  certainly 
hinder  a  gi'eat  many  inefficient  candidates  from  competing. 
Judgment  given  with  closed  doors  in  the  case  of  such  competi- 
tions is  to  be  deprecated  from  all  points  of  view  :  it  makes  the 


408  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

judges  irresponsible ;  it  opens  the  door  for  certain  scandalous 
proceedings,  and  the  results  generally  surprise  the  ])ul:)lic,  not 
without  cause. 

If  the  plan  here  proposed  were  adopted,  it  would  suffice  that 
a  single  member  of  the  jury, — or  rather,  I  should  say,  the  board 
of  examiners,  for  that  would  be  their  pi-oper  name, — should  call 
attention  to  the  merits  of  a  plan  by  the  way  in  which  he  would 
explain  it,  and  by  the  questions  he  would  address  to  the 
candidates.  The  reasons  given  and  the  answers  to  the  questions 
put  would  evidently  make  an  impression  on  the  real  jury,  in 
spite  of  the  preconceived  or  erroneous  opinions  of  the  majority  of 
the  board  of  exammers.  Thus  worthy  competitors  would  no 
longer  have  to  fear  "  falling  between  two  stools  "  as  the  result  of 
the  judgment  of  a  majority  given  with  closed  doors. 

It  may  indeed  be  objected  that  this  juiy,  consisting  as  it 
would  of  persons  who  are  not  architects,  or  who  have  ceased 
to  be  so,  would  be  incapable  of  dvdy  appreciating  the  discus- 
sion carried  on  between  the  examiners,  or  the  answers  given 
to  the  questions  by  the  competitors.  This  objection  is  not 
tenaV)le. 

Arcliitecture  is  not  one  of  those  branches  of  knowledge  which 
are  full  of  mysteries,  which  bristle  with  technical  terms  and 
formulte  incomprehensible  to  the  bulk  of  intelligent  people. 
There  is  no  jaroblem  in  architecture,  difficult  as  it  may  be,  that 
cannot  be  understood  by  educated  persons,  though  strangers  to 
the  practical  side  of  the  profession,  if  it  be  clearly  explained  to 
them,  with  a  reliance  on  that  common  sense  which  is  essential 
to  the  appreciation  of  everything.  We  may  even  affirm  that  the 
very  necessity  imposed  on  the  architect-examiners — I  shall  refer 
to  them  in  future  by  this  name — of  explaining  the  reasons  that 
induce  them  to  reject  or  adopt  such  a  design,  would  not  be 
unaccompanied  by  great  advantages  ;  for  we  have  sometimes 
seen  judges  adopting  or  rejecting  a  design  without  explaining 
the  reasons  that  led  them  to  do  so,  or  influenced  by  motives 
which  they  certainly  would  not  avow  before  an  independent 

There  are  certain  reasons  which  would  not  be  given,  and  which 
could  only  produce  an  impression  with  closed  doors.  But  what 
would  prevent  our  nominating  on  suchjiu-ies — commissioned  not 
to  discuss  themselves,  but  only  to  Usteu  and  give  their  verdict, 
after  having  heard  the  debate  between  the  examiners  and  the 
answers  of  the  candidates — engineers  of  the  "Fonts  et  Chaiissees," 
civil  engineers,  members  of  administrative  boards  who  are  not 
vmfamiliar  with  public  works,  or  functionaries  of  the  higher 
class,  independent  by  character  and  position  ?  Such  persons 
would  be  quite  capable  of  giving  a  judgment  on  plans,  if  not  at 


LECTURE  XX.  409 

first  sight,  yet  certainly  after  the  discussions  and  the  examina- 
tion I  have  sup'Sfested. 

With  such  a  jury  there  would  be  no  reason  for  fearing  those 
prejudiced  decisions  which  many  among  us  have  witnessed, — 
those  Reports  which  I  will  not  absolutely  call  untrustworthy, 
but  which  have  been  quite  opposite  in  tenor  to  the  direction 
wliich  a  discussion  in  certain  cases  had  taken. 

In  conclusion  then,  if  the  plan  of  competitions  is  adopted  for 
all  new  architectural  works,  we  must  make  the  composition  of 
the  juries  the  chief  consideration ;  for  as  long  as  the  system 
hitherto  adopted  prevails,  it  is  certain  that  many,  if  not  all, 
capable  artists  will  refrain  from  being  candidates. 


The  present  state  of  Contracts. 

The  question  of  Competiti<:)n  naturally  leads  us  to  speak  of 
Contracts.  Every  one  is  acquainted  with  the  law  relating  to 
contracts. 

The  Legislature,  sensible  of  the  inconveniences  and  abuses 
which  the  usages  of  private  contracts  might  occasion  between 
the  Administration  and  the  contractors  for  public  works,  has 
determined  that  there  should  be  a  pubhc  competition  between 
these  contractors,  on  a  basis  of  schedides,  plans,  estimates,  and 
conditions  of  charges  determined  beforehand  and  submitted  to 
the  competitors,  who  send  sealed  tenders  stating  the  abatement 
they  will  allow  on  those  prices  for  work  or  materials.  The  con- 
tractor who  offers  the  largest  discount  is  accejated  as  contractor 
by  law,  if  when  he  has  sent  in  his  tender  he  has  given  the 
security  required  and  fiu-nished  the  necessary  certificates  of 
abihty  to  supply  the  work  or  materials  in  question. 

Can  any  law  be  clearer,  or  seem  better  suited  to  protect  the 
interests  of  the  State  and  the  municipal  bodies? 

Let  us  examine  how  it  works. 

In  the  first  place,  for  a  contract  to  be  sound  and  valid,  the 
two  contracting  parties  must  be  both  in  a  position  to  fulfil  their 
engagements,  vmless  prevented  by  force  ;  they  must  each  act 
independently,  and  under  their  own  responsibility.  But  this 
law,  which  appears  so  simple,  clear,  and  equitable,  is  among  those 
which  present  the  greatest  difficulties,  and  give  occasion  to  the 
most  frequent  contests  and  litigation. 

There  are  two  forms  of  procedure  when  buildings  are  to  be 
contracted  for  :  either  these  works  are  intrusted  to  a  general 
contractor,  commissioned  to  get  works  of  all  kinds  done  which 
building  requires,  on  his  own  responsibility  ;  or  recourse  is  had 
to  contractors  of  the  several  trades,  who  carry  on  theii"  work 


410  LECTURES  0^^  ARCHITECTURE. 

simiiltaneously  or    successively,    according    to    the    architect's 
orders. 

In  the  former  case  it  is  evident  that  the  general  contractor 
wlio  has  agreed  to  an  abatement  in  the  lump  on  all  the  works, 
— masonry,  timber,  locksmith's  work,  roofing,  plumber's  work, 
joinery,  etc.  etc., — has  not  individually  either  the  knowledge 
required  for  directing  all  these  laboiu's,  nor  workshops  suitable 
for  their  execution.  He  therefore  has  recourse  to  sub-contractors, 
and  he  will  certainly  not  sub-contract  except  at  lower  prices  than 
those  allowed  him  by  his  contract ;  for  instance,  if  he  has  allowed 
.5  per  cent,  discount,  lie  sub- contracts  with  the  carpenter  for 
G  per  cent.,  and  so  with  the  rest.  Either  the  State  and  the 
municipal  bodies  might  therefore  have  the  advantage  of  this 
larger  discount,  if  they  treated  directly  with  these  sub-contractors, 
or  the  work  furnished  is  paid  for  at  a  higher  price  than  it  is 
worth.  But  this  is  of  little  importance  if  the  contractor  is  a 
capable  and  honourable  man,  and  if  he  has  suflBcient  capital  at 
command.  By  his  uitelligence  and  energy  he  exactly  performs 
his  engagements  while  making  a  higher  profit  on  the  work  than 
he  is  supposed  to  make.  If  he  gets  one  or  two  or  three  per  cent, 
more  than  his  supposed  profits  from  the  sub-contractors,  on  the 
other  hand  he  has  to  advance  capital,  and  in  fact  only  recovers 
the  interest  of  his  money.  He  spares  the  administrative  boards 
comphcations  of  accounts,  and  by  taking  the  entire  responsibility 
on  his  own  shoulders  he  offers  a  more  substantial  guarantee  than 
divided  responsibilities  could  do.  But  very  few  contractors  have 
the  ability,  intelligence,  and  energy  necessary  for  completing  a 
comprehensive  undertaking.  And  in  fact,  many  who  are  the 
really  responsible  jiersons  take  refuge  behind  their  sub-contractors 
if  the  work  of  the  latter  is  unsatisfactory,  and  try  to  shift  that 
responsibility  on  them.  Indeed,  the  architect  who  directs  the 
works  is  always  obliged,  even  when  a  general  contractor  is 
engaged,  to  enter  into  direct  relations  with  each  of  the  sub- 
contractors. He  cannot  explain  to  that  general  contractor,  who 
is  perhaps  a  mason,  how  tlie  plumber's  work  ought  to  be  done, 
so  that  it  is  absolutely  necessary  for  him  to  give  his  orders 
dnect  to  the  plumber,  the  slater,  the  carpenter,  and  the  lock- 
smith. So  that  if  there  is  any  bad  work,  the  general  contractor 
has  no  longer  a  dii-ect  responsibility,  but  may  say  to  the 
architect  :  "  I  have  put  my  locksmith  or  plumber  at  your  dis- 
posal ;  you  give  him  your  orders  directly,  and  he  does  or  ought 
to  do  what  you  requh-e ;  do  not  therefore  complain  to  me  of 
such  or  such  bad  work,  which  it  was  for  you  to  obviate  by  your 
acquaintance  with  the  matter,  and  the  direct  surveillance  you 
exercise  over  my  sub-contractor  without  my  intervention." 
It  is  clear  that  though  the  general  contractor  continues  to  be 


LECTURE  XX.  411 

responsible,  this  responsibility  is  practically  illusory.  And  here 
I  am  supposing  that  contractor  to  be  an  honourable  man.  But 
il*  he  is  not  so, — if  he  has  induced  his  sub-contractors  to  make 
exorbitant  abatements,  and  if  he  has  an  understanding  with  them 
to  get  anunla\\^ul  profit  on  the  materials  and  workmanship, —  what 
will  be  the  position  of  the  architect  ?  He  apphes  to  the  sub- 
contractor, and  reproaches  hun  with  bad  work  ;  the  latter  replies 
that  he  has  received  his  orders  from  the  general  contractor. 
The  arcliitect  goes  to  the  general  contractor,  but  he  rephes  that 
his  sub-contractor  knows  his  business ;  that  as  for  himself,  he, 
the  general  contractor,  has  no  acquaintance  with  plumber's  and 
locksmith's  work ;  that  the  architect  has  given  the  sub-contractor 
direct  orders,  and  that  he  himself  has  nothing  to  do  with  the 
matter.  Thence  arise  interminable  disputes  ;  the  matter  has  to  he 
investigated  before  the  Board,  which  does  not  like  such  complica- 
tions, and  puts  off  its  decision.  If  the  facts  are  too  grave  to  be 
ignored,  it  is  necessary  to  require  the  canceUing  of  the  contract ; 
but  that  is  a  serious  matter  ;  the  works  are  suspended,  or  they 
are  carried  on  independently  of  the  contract ;  but  there  are  law- 
suits, claims,  appraisements,  surveyors'  reports,  and  so  on.  And 
if  the  contractor  becomes  bankrupt  (as  sometimes  happens), 
there  is  nothing  to  fall  back  upon  but  the  securities  or  dejiosits, 
which  are  not  always  sufficient  to  make  up  for  the  loss  resulting 
from  the  bad  work,  the  loss  of  time,  and  expenses  incui'red.  In 
such  circumstances  the  position  of  the  architect  is  at  least  a 
dehcate  one,  and  often  a  false  and  compromising  one.  He 
cannot  demand  the  cancelling  of  the  contract  unless  the  facts  are 
serious  enough  to  call  for  it :  but  then  the  miscliief  he  ought  to 
have  prevented  is  done,  and  a  strict  Board  of  administration 
may  in  any  case  thus  remonstrate  with  him  :  "It  was  your  duty 
to  prevent  the  bad  work  which  you  have  pointed  out,  and  which 
is  perhaps  irremediable." 

If  the  other  mode  of  contract  is  adopted, — that  is,  if  the  con- 
tract for  building-works  is  made  with  the  trades  sej^arately, — 
other  difficulties  arise.  These  trades  must  work  either  simul- 
taneously or  successively.  If  one  of  the  contractors  fails  to 
perform  his  engagements,  or  performs  them  badly,  he  hinders  the 
work  of  the  others,  and  tliese  latter  may  thi'ow  the  blame  of  the 
imperfection  or  delay  Wit\\  which  they  are  charged,  and  some- 
times justly,  on  the  first.  This  second  mode  of  contract  is  how- 
ever preferable  to  the  other,  inasmuch  as  each  representative  of 
the  several  trades  is  chrectly  responsible,  not  only  before  the  law, 
but  practically ;  and  a  skilful  architect  well  acquainted  with 
building  ought  to  know  to  which  of  the  contractors  who  are 
working  together  a  piece  of  bad  work  ought  to  be  atti'ibuted. 
This  method  of  contract  necessarily  involves  some  delays,  and 


412  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

on  tliis  account  a  general  contract  is  preferred  in  circumstances 
-wliicli  require  a  very  rapid  execution.  In  fact,  it  will  be  readily 
understood  that,  while  in  certain  cases  the  several  trades  have 
to  work  simultaneovisly,  some  will  have  much  to  do  while  the 
others  have  a  comparatively  small  shai-e  of  the  labour ;  the 
former  have  to  keep  then-  men  constantly  at  work,  whereas  the 
latter  have  only  to  act  occasionally  ;  and  it  would  be  unreasonable 
to  require  the  constant  presence  of  a  staff'  of  workmen  at  the 
l)uilding,  who  for  three-fom-ths  of  the  day  would  be  doing  nothing. 
It  is  the  architect's  duty  therefore  to  foresee  the  precise  moment 
at  which  tlie  latter  ought  to  be  ready  to  help  ;  and  this  precise 
moment  is  often  difficult  to  ascertain.  The  \\'ork  may  go  on 
faster  or  slower  than  was  anticipated ;  this  wiU  occasion  delays, 
as  we  cannot  wait  to  call  the  men  wanted  till  the  instant  when 
their  presence  is  required,  and  the  mere  transmission  of  orders 
takes  time.  When  the  contractors  are  what  they  should  be, 
when  they  are  duly  paid,  and  so  devote  themselves  to  the 
work,  each  feels  an  interest  and  pride  in  satisfying  the  require- 
ments of  the  enterprise ;  but  if,  as  only  too  often  happens  in  the 
case  of  contracts,  excessive  abatements  have  been  consented  to, 
the  contractors  are  anything  but  hearty  in  the  matter,  and 
naturally  seek  for  pretexts  to  make  objections  of  all  kinds. 
Certain  of  gaining  nothing,  or  even  of  losing  money  in  the  under- 
taking, they  evad.e  orders  which  seem  to  require  a  sacrifice  of 
time  and  money  to  be  executed  with  due  celerity.  This  is  the 
really  sinister  aspect  of  our  method  of  pubhc  contracts,  and 
which  prevents  the  most  capable  and  conscientious  contractors 
from  being  willing  to  undertake  works  of  very  great  importance. 

The  administrative  Board  jiossesses  the  data  necessary  for 
determinmg  schedvdes  of  prices.  It  knows  as  well  as  the  con- 
tractors the  cost  of  materials  and  of  laboiu-  at  any  given  moment. 
In  fact,  these  prices  are  no  mystery  to  any  one.  A  computation 
is  made  therefore  by  adding  the  usual  profits  and  incidental 
expenses.  These  profits  and  expenses  are  calculated  to  amount 
to  fifteen  per  cent.  It  advertises  for  tenders  ;  and  a  contractor 
comes  and  offers  an  abatement  of  twenty  per  cent.  It  follows 
either  that  the  Board  has  been  greatly  mistaken  in  its  esti- 
mates, or  that  the  contractor  consents  to  be  ruined  ;  or  that  he 
reckons  on  being  able  to  cheat  the  Board.  The  first  of  these 
suppositions  is  a  very  unlikely  one,  the  two  others  imply  grave 
unmorality. 

Why,  however,  does  this  so  frequently  occiu-  ?  Because 
there  is  a  whole  class  of  contractors  whose  sole  object  is  to  get 
hold  of  money  to  cover  previous  embarrassments,  and  who  there- 
fore borrow  at  usurious  rates.  They  know  very  well  that  the 
bargain  will  be  a  losing  one  for  them ;  generally  they  have 


LECTURE  XX.  413 

neither  the  wish  nor  the  power  to  cheat  their  employers,  ]:iut 
money  they  must  have,  come  what  may,  either  to  pay  off  arrears, 
or  to  keep  then*  business  going,  or — which  is  the  chief  reason — 
to  maintain  their  credit.  Thus,  adding  to  their  habihties,  they 
hasten  more  and  more  rapidly  to  bankruptcy.  They  hope  for 
some  unforeseen  chance  ;  they  will  get  up  a  complete  system  of 
demurrers ;  the  residt  of  which  is  delaying  the  settlement  of 
their  affairs,  which  will  enable  them  to  hold  out  such  hopes  to 
theii'  creditors  as  will  induce  them  to  be  patient.  Though  they 
are  ah-eady  half  bankrupt,  they  put  off  the  catastrophe  as 
long  as  possible.  When  he  has  to  do  with  contractors  of  this 
class,  the  position  of  the  architect  is  as  embarrassing  as  it  well 
can  be  :  if  he  has  some  knowledge  and  expeiience  in  such  matters, 
he  knows  perfectly  well  that  every  day  is  adding  to  the  con- 
tractor's difficulties.  He  is  incessantly  in  fear  of  being  cheated  ; 
while  he  hesitates  about  demanding  from  a  man  who  is  evidently 
ruining  liimself  those  sacrifices  which  are  often  necessary  either 
for  hastening  on  the  work  or  to  insure  its  perfection.  Sometimes 
bankruptcy  supervenes  before  the  undertaking  is  completed, 
and  then  the  embarrassments,  delays,  and  difficulties  of  all  kinds 
that  arise  render  its  success  problematical. 

It  may  also  happen  that  the  architects  who  have  to  do 
with  speculators  who  have  entered  on  those  ruinous  contracts 
are  inexperienced.  And  if  such  conti\actors  are  cunning,  they 
find  means  of  evasion.  On  grounds  which  may  or  may  not  be 
valid,  but  which  they  always  contrive  to  represent  as  such,  they 
obtain  from  the  architect  the  permission  to  substitute  one  class 
of  material  for  another.  They  pretend,  for  instance,  that  those 
specified  in  the  list  of  prices  (stones,  for  example)  are  no  longer 
to  be  had — that  the  cpiarries  are  exhausted  ;  in  fact,  they  succeed 
in  gettmg  him  to  allow  the  use  of  bad  materials. 

Then  they  pretend  to  be  overwhelmed  with  regret,  exclaim 
against  the  dishonesty  of  the  purveyors  of  the  materials,  and 
propose  to  accompany  the  architect  to  the  quarries  to  examine 
the  beds  themselves.  They  go  there  in  fact,  and  make  the 
architect,  who  knows  httle  enough  about  stones  in  a  quarry 
— for  how  could  he  have  learned  it  ? — believe  anything  they 
choose. 

Then  it  is  decided  to  employ  other  materials  than  those 
mentioned  in  the  estimate  and  hsts. 

The  law  respecting  such  contracts  has  provided  for  this  con- 
tingency ;  it  is  stipulated,  "  that  the  materials  not  specified  in 
the  lists  shall  be  estimated  by  comparison"  (par  analogic).  All 
therefore  goes  on  quietly  enough  till  the  accounts  come  to  be 
settled.  Then  the  contractor  objects  to  the  estimate  adopted 
by  the  auditor,  and  there  is  no  end  of  protests  and  litigation. 


414  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

Tliis  is  quite  in  the  interest  of  the  contractor,  since  as  long  as 
the  matter  is  unsettled  he  hopes  to  maintain  his  credit.  In 
such  circumstances  it  rarely  hajipens  that  the  Government  or 
the  municipal  bodies  are  not  obliged  to  sacrifice  a  good  part  of 
the  money  they  thought  to  economise  by  excessive  abate- 
ments. 

But  I  leave  these  and  similar  rogueries.  The  moral  to  l)e 
inferred  is,  that  the  best  way  to  jii-event  ourselves  from  being 
cheated  or  duped  is  never  to  put  people  into  such  a  position  as 
that  they  shall  be  induced  to  dupe  or  cheat  in  order  to  get  out 
of  a  difficulty. 

I  am  not  sure  that  our  system  of  contracts,  when  public 
works  are  concerned,  enables  us  to  economise  to  any  extent ;  but 
I  am  sure  that  in  its  working  it  is  immoral  and  hazardous,  in 
nine  cases  out  of  ten,  and  that  it  gives  to  a  whole  class  of 
"  shaky "  contractors  the  means  of  cariying  on  business  after 
their  fesliion,  and  to  usm-ers  of  a  certain  stamp  an  ojjportunity 
of  making  a  protit  out  of  those  contractors  in  a  most  scandalous 
manner. 

How  then  do  matters  proceed  ?  One  of  the  contractors, 
always  on  the  verge  of  bankruptcy,  has  to  meet  his  engagements 
at  a  certain  date;  he  wants — say  £1G00 — to  pay  his  bills  to 
tradesmen  and  his  workmen's  wages.  It  will  be  a  month  before 
he  will  be  able  to  draw  on  his  emjjloyers.  He  therefore  makes 
an  assignment  to  one  of  those  money-lenders  on  whom  every 
such  "shaky"  contractor  is  dependent.  He  receives  £1600, 
and  gives  an  acknowledgment  for  £1800,  and  interest  at  8  per 
cent. 

This  assignment  empowers  the  lender  to  receive  £1600  at 
the  end  of  the  month,  and  he  enters  £200  and  the  accumulated 
interest,  to  the  debit  of  the  contractor. 

But  the  latter  has  soon  to  pay  again,  and  the  lender  becomes 
more  urgent  as  the  work  advances  ;  so  that,  besides  the  reduc- 
tions which  swallow  up  all  his  profits  and  more,  the  unfortunate 
contractor  sees  the  gulf  of  debt  daily  widening. 

Above  the  class  of  "  shaky "  contractors  who  make  disad- 
vantageous bargains  with  the  sole  object  of  having  money  at 
their  disposal  and  a  flxctitious  credit,  there  is  a  class  of  incom- 
petent contractors  who  consent  to  ruinous  abatements,  because 
they  have  no  clear  understanding  of  what  they  are  doing,  and 
because  out  of  three  or  four  undertakings  which  they  are  carrying 
on  at  the  same  time,  they  do  not  know  how  to  distinguish  those 
which  will  give  them  a  profit  from  those  by  wliich  they  will  lose, 
because  in  fact  they  do  not  know  how  to  strike  a  balance  between 
them.  As  they  keep  no  regular  accounts,  and  never  duly  take 
stock  of  their  affaii'S,  they  are  not  aware  of  then*  position  till  the 


LECTURE  XX.  415 

moment  when  their  debts  so  greatly  exceed  their  assets  that 
they  are  obliged  to  declare  themselves  bankrupt. 

Among  such  contractors  are  many  who  were  formerly  fore- 
men, and  who  having  amassed  a  little  capital  by  industry  and 
skill  have  thought  pi-oper  to  commence  business  on  their  own 
account. 

Having  seen  contractors  by  whom  they  were  employed 
reahsing  a  veiy  respectable  profit  on  undertakings  in  which  they 
allowed  discounts  of  10  per  cent.,  they  reason  thus:  "If  my 
employer  made  10  or  12  per  cent.,  I,  who  shall  be  satisfied 
with  a  profit  of  5  per  cent,  in  a  similar  undertaking,  may  very 
well  consent  to  an  abatement  of  15  or  17  per  cent."  But 
this  is  a  delusion,  as  they  soon  find  out.  In  fact  a  skilful  and 
prudent  contractor,  whose  credit  is  firmly  established,  who  is  not 
obliged  to  borrow  in  order  to  complete  his  contracts,  or  who  can 
at  any  rate  borrow  at  5  per  cent,  on  property  of  his  own,  and 
who  can  therefore  make  advantageous  bargams  for  materials,  who 
can  even  avail  himself  of  chances  of  buying  largely  on  favourable 
terms,  is  in  a  condition  to  be  able  to  consent  to  very  consider- 
able abatements,  and  yet  secure  handsome  profits.  Besides,  his 
books  are  well  kept,  his  stock-takings  are  regular  and  honafide; 
he  always  knows  what  his  position  is.  It  is  not  so  with  the 
worthy  man  who,  finding  himself  possessed  of  a  little  capital 
of  £2000,  determines  to  contract  for  an  unportant  under- 
taking. The  security  he  has  to  give,  the  materials  required,  and 
the  expenses  at  the  commencement  that  have  to  be  met  at  a 
short  date,  or  with  ready  money,  soon  exhaust  his  1'2000. 
The  payments  he  gets  on  account  come  in  but  slowly.  The 
irregular  way  in  which  his  books  ai'e  kept  prevents  him  from 
knowing  his  exact  position ;  and  having  already  exhausted  his 
capital,  he  is  quite  surprised  to  see  that,  even  making  the  best 
of  the  situation,  it  is  not  an  enviable  one. 

Then  he  has  recom'se  to  loans,  and  as  he  cannot  offer  any 
other  secvuity  than  the  moneys  that  will  be  due  to  him  on  account 
of  the  works  he  has  undertaken,  he  falls  a  prey  to  the  usurers. 
Then  to  the  1 5  per  cent,  reductions  must  be  added  1 5  per  cent, 
on  the  capital  he  has  borrowed.  It  is  easy  to  see  that  this  cannot 
last  long.  And  it  need  not  l^e  added  that  he  becomes  the  enemy 
of  "  Capital,"  and  finds  our  social  organisation  a  most  objec- 
tionable one.  All  who  quit  the  building-yards  m  which  they  were 
foremen  to  engage  in  business  on  their  own  account  do  not  indeed 
experience  this  unhappy  fate.  There  are  some  who  are  better 
informed  and  more  prudent,  who  begin  cautiously,  do  not  run 
the  risk  of  large  contracts,  learn  to  keep  their  books,  and  advance 
gradually  as  their  resources  increase.  These  become  very  reliable 
contractors,  well  trained  to  their  calling,  men  of  integrity  and 


416  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

knowing  how  to  manage  their  builcling-yards  well ;  accurate,  and  of 
thorough  practical  al)ility.  The  best  provincial  contractors  are 
of  tiiis  stamp ;  their  work  is  very  thorough,  and  deserves  the 
highest  conunendation.  For  whereas  the  contractors  who  have 
large  capital  in  our  great  towns  are  not  always  unexceptionable, 
they  are  at  any  rate  experienced  men,  they  are  feitUe  in  expe- 
dients, and  can  save  the  directors  of  the  works,  and  consequently 
the  boards  of  management,  considerable  trouble  ;  but  it  is  not 
the  same  in  the  provinces,  where  most  of  the  contractors,  being- 
mere  biisiness  men  or  capitalists  rather  than  builders,  have  not 
any  professional  skill,  and  in  fact  only  supply  the  funds,  caring- 
little  about  the  quality  of  the  work  provided  they  get  their 
profits.  Being  generally  indifferent  accountants,  as  far  as  budd- 
ing matters  are  concerned,  they  are  scarcely  acquainted  with 
book-keeping  except  by  double  entry,  according  to  the  usual 
method,  which  is  far  from  sufficient  in  public  or  private  works 
of  the  kind. 

There  is  one  thing  to  be  set  against  this  inconvenience  that 
has  jiist  been  pointed  out,  resulting  fi-om  our  methods  of  public 
conti'act.  A  contractor  can  only  be  accepted  (if  his  tender  should 
ofler  the  most  favourable  terms)  on  tlie  stipulation  that  he  shall 
furnish  a  certificate  of  capacity,  etc. ,  signed  by  two  Government 
architects  or  engineers  [de^  Pouts  et  Chaussces),  and  counter- 
signed by  the  architect  commissioned  to  superuitend  the  build- 
ing in  question.  If  these  certificates  were  always  bondjide,  and 
never  given  merely  in  the  way  of  complaisance,  or  if  the  architect 
intrusted  with  the  execution  of  the  work  to  be  contracted  for 
always  refused  his  visa  when  he  had  not  full  confidence  in  the 
contractor,  nothing  more  woidd  be  needed  to  prevent  incapable 
or  imscrupulous  contractors  from  applying.  But  it  is  evident 
how  dehcate  a  matter  it  is  to  refuse  certificates,  and  especially 
a  visa,  except  for  very  grave  and  manifest  reasons  ;  so  that  con- 
tractors of  both  orders,  good  and  bad,  succeed  ui  obtaining  them. 
Such  a  veto  is  therefore  all  but  illusory. 

Book-keeping  and  Superintendence  in  Binldlnrj-ijards. 

Accoi-ding  to  pi-esent  arrangements,  both  in  public  and  private 
undertakings,  the  contractor  keeps  regular  accounts  of  his  own, 
and  the  architect  likewise  ;  but  there  have  been,  and  are,  cases 
in  which  neither  does  so,  or  at  least  only  in  a  very  imperfect 
fashittn. 

The  contractor's  books  ought  to  be  so  kept  as  to  show  the 
exact  position  of  matters  from  day  to  day.  Scrupulous  accuracy 
shoidd  be  observed,  so  that  should  disputes  arise  there  may  be 
incontestable  proof  of  honest  management. 


LECTURE  XX.  417 

As  remarked  above,  book-keeping  by  double  entry,  though 
ofi'ering  great  advantages  in  the  way  of  checking  accounts,  is 
insufficient,  and  even  impracticable,  in  building,  on  account  of  the 
variety  of  details  involved.  The  contractor's  accounts  are  at  once 
industrial  and  commercial ;  they  ought  to  combine  these  two 
characters,  and  shoidd  be  so  connected  as  to  allow  of  their  being 
efficiently  and  clearly  checked. 

Commercial  book-keeping,  as  ordinarily  conducted,  is  suffi- 
cient ;  except  that  certain  redundancies,  jaractically  useless,  might 
be  suppressed  ;  the  general  accomits  might  be  restricted  to  five 
to  avoid  confusion,  though  at  need  accessory  accounts  might  be 
opened.  Such  a  method  of  accounts  gives  a  very  simple  resume 
enabling  the  contractor  by  a  few  minutes'  examination  to  find  the 
details  he  may  want  to  ascertain.  Besides,  repeated  copyings 
would  thus  be  avoided. 

Accounts  ought  to  be  preceded  by  a  full  and  correct 
inventoiy,  and  this  is  th.e  most  irksome  part  of  the  business.  A 
contractor's  inventory  is  necessarily  extensive,  because  of  the 
multiplicity  of  items  of  which  his  stock  consists, — the  quantity 
of  materials  of  which  an  exact  statement  has  to  be  made.  It 
is  evident,  however,  that  it  is  only  this  first  inventory  that 
requires  lengthened  and  minute  specification ;  the  subsequent 
ones,  if  orderly  notes  are  kept,  may  be  prepared  easily  and 
quickly. 

The  inventory  therefore  is  the  starting-point. 

For  the  works  in  com-se  of  execution  a  current  statement  of 
expenses  incurred  constitutes  the  chief  account-book.  This  book, 
in  which  a  daily  accoimt  is  kejit,  is  a  record  of  the  expenses 
connected  with  each  undertaking.  These  expenses  ai-e  arranged 
under  three  heads  :  materials,  lahour,  and  incidental  charges. 
The  contractor  can  thus  see  from  time  to  time  what  has  been 
supplied,  and  how  it  has  been  employed, — what  had  been  done  by 
his  workmen ;  and  by  comparing  it  with  work  of  the  same  kind, 
he  can  ascertain  whether  they  ai'e  losing  time,  and  whether 
a  proportionally  lar-ge  amount  of  money  is  going  out  in  wages  : 
he  has  a  record  of  the  various  expenses,  cost  of  carriage,  and 
other  disbui'sements,  fees,  interest  of  moneys  borrowed,  and 
depreciation  of  the  value  of  materials ;  and  lastly,  the  profit  or 
loss  on  each  transaction,  as  calculated  from  the  difl'erence  between 
the  net  cost  and  the  retiu-ns  of  the  business.  The  transfer 
of  materials  should  be  recorded  in  a  special  account,  referred 
to  a  separate  folio,  and  checked  by  their  entry  in  other 
building  accounts  in  the  column  stating  where  the  materials 
came  from. 


VOL.  H. 


418 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


The  following  is  a  specimen  of  the  foUo  of  current  entries, 
foirly  copied  out : — 


4;;-S 


t-4- 


5  — 


c-fi- 


I        K 


1       K 


...JO.... 


Fit'.  1. — Foriu  of  BiiilJing-aucount  Book. 


Column  1  is  allotted  to  the  numbers  of  the  order-tickets,  to 
enable  the  contractor  to  check  the  accounts  of  materials  and 
goods  supplied.  la  some  undertakings,  especially  if  they 
are  at  a  distance  from  his  residence,  such  a  means  of  check 
is  necessary. 

Column  2  is  for  dates. 

Column  3  registers  quantities,  whether  in  length,  surface, 
volume,  weight,  or  price  and  number. 

Column  4  records  all  the  materials  brought  to  the  grotmd, 
all  the  work  daUy  executed,  without  omissions  or  abbrevia- 
tions ;  items  for  carriage,  and  disbursements  of  all  kinds. 

Column  5  shows  the  places  from  which  materials  have 
come,  or  the  names  of  those  who  supplied  them,  according 
to  the  indications  furnished  by  the  estimates  or  the  price 
list,  or  the  architect,  so  that  if  any  item  is  disputed,  the  in- 
voice or  ticket  may  be  shown  by  its  date  to  correspond  with 
that  of  the  second  column,  and  thus  justify  the  contractor's 
claims. 

Columns  6,  7,  and  8  show  the  net  prices  and  the  sums 
allotted  to  each  article  in  the  current  statements  of  items. 
In  this  table  of  items  only  the  prices  and  amounts  of  articles 
employed  in  the  work,  or  articles  reckoned  at  their  money 
value,  are  entered.  Against  articles  whose  quantity  has  to 
be  measured,  there  will  be  blank  entries  until  the  measure- 
m«nt  can  be  taken. 

Column  9  gives  the  name  of  such  or  such  a  foreman  or 
workman  or  architect  who  is  to  be  referred  to  if  information 
respecting  any  particular  matter  is  required. 

Column  10  is  for  the  architect's  remarks,  or  diagrams  that 
seem  needed  to  accompany  a  written  instruction. 


Heading  of  lite  Columns. 
At  A  :   Nos.  of  tickets. 


At  B  :   Dates. 
At  c :  Quantities. 

At  D  :   Designation  of  works. 


At  E  :   Where  material  come 
from. 


At  F :  Materials. 

At  o :  Wages  of  Labour. 

At  H :  Incidental  cxjienses. 

At  I :   Prices. 

At  K:  Amounts. 


At  L:  Name  of  the  workman 
or  foreman  superintending 
the  works. 

At  M :  Kemarks. 


These  folios  of  items,  f  drly  copied  out,  should  be  without 
erasures,  intei'calations,  interlineations,  or  notes  in  the  margin. 
Any  error  or  incorrect  entry  is  put  in  parenthesis  and  corrected 
elsewhere. 


LECTURE  XX.  419 

As  the  articles  that  have  to  be  measured  have  blank  entries 
in  the  columns  of  prices,  F,  G,  H,  it  will  be  impossible,  when  this 
account  is  di-awn  up,  for  an  article  to  be  entered  twice,  or  for 
anjtliing  to  be  forgotten,  as  these  articles  are  recorded  day 
by  day. 

These  folios  of  items,  which  form  a  book,  are  submitted  to 
the  inspection  of  the  arcliitect  or  the  employer  as  often  as  either 
wishes  to  see  them.  Both  may  verify  the  details  on  the  spot  as 
often  as  they  choose.  And  as  the  accounts  are  only  extracts 
from  this  book,  all  whose  articles  they  have  had  the  opportunity 
of  checking,  it  is  clear  that  the  contractor  cannot  be  subjected 
to  arbitrary  reductions,  and  that  in  case  any  dispute  or  htigation 
arises,  this  book  is  an  unexce23tionable  witness  to  his  probity 
before  the  Courts,  or  before  those  who  may  be  called  on  to  make 
valuations.  Moreover,  the  responsibility  of  the  arcHtect  as 
regards  the  control  of  the  works  and  theii"  value  is  greatly 
Ughtened,  since  he  and  his  clerks  have  nothing  else  to  do  but 
to  veiify  the  correctness  of  the  record  of  the  book  of  items  daily 
entered  in  a  fair  copy. 

Thus  the  main  point  in  the  book-keeping  required  by  a  con- 
tractor, in  the  industrial  side  of  his  business,  is  keeping  a  book 
of  entries. 

This  book  should  be  kept  in  two  foi'ms :  current  entries  and 
a  fair  copy. 

Such  a  book,  after  any  particidar  imdertaking  has  been 
completed,  will  fuiTush  the  contractor  with  much  information 
which  will  be  very  usefid  to  liim  in  regard  to  future  contracts  of 
the  same  kind.  But  its  chief  utility  is  the  daily  account  it 
supplies  of  the  causes  of  his  profits  and  losses,  thus  furnishing 
him  with  the  means  of  increasing  the  former  and  diminishing 
the  latter. 

If  kept  in  an  orderly  way,  the  total  result  of  the  book  entries, 
even  in  the  case  of  important  undertakings,  will  only  fill  a  line 
in  the  ledger,  without  any  need  for  a  number  of  accounts. 

The  book  of  entries,  which  is  sufficient  for  most  building 
imdertakings  of  an  ordinary  kind,  may,  in  certain  exceptional 
cases,  require  the  keeping  of  additional  books.  But  tliis  woidd 
imply  no  change  in  the  general  system  explained  above. 

Architects  would  find  it  of  great  advantage  to  be  able  to 
consult  the  contractors'  books  of  entries,  as  they  would  in  tliLs 
way  readily  gain  an  exact  acquaintance  with  the  state  of  things, 
and  know  whether  they  may  reckon  on  an  excess  or  a  diminution 
of  estimated  expense  as  the  work  goes  on.  These  books,  examined 
and  signed  by  the  architect  during  the  progress  of  the  building 
of  private  houses,  e.g.,  would  obviate  the  necessity  of  his  keeping 
an  entry  of  detads,  which  must  always  be  incomplete,  since 


420  LECTURES  OX  ARCHITECTURE. 

neither  he  nor  his  clerks,  in  the  case  of  private  houses,  can  be 
always  at  the  works,  and  certain  details  will  escape  his  attention 
and  that  of  the  clerks  in  question. 

During  the  last  five-and-twenty  years  various  methods  of 
book-keeping  have  been  adoj^ted  for  public  architectural  works 
undertaken  by  the  government  of  the  city  of  Paris,  and  the 
simplest  system  has  been  that  which  experience  has  proved 
most  desu'able. 

The  multipUcity  of  the  entries  that  have  been  made  in  the 
execution  of  these  commissions  only  tends  to  confusion,  and 
what  seems  to  promise  to  be  a  means  of  checking  accounts  only 
occasions  the  disp-uisine:  of  irresjularities, — disorder  in  fact,  under 
the  appearance  of  perfect  order  and  regularity. 

The  architect  and  his  clerks  have  a  twofold  function  to  perform 
in  the  construction  of  important  public  buildings.  They  have, 
first,  to  give  all  the  graphic  details  and  the  instructions 
necessai'y  for  explaining  them,  and  carefully  to  superintend  the 
different  sets  of  workmen  during  the  execution  of  the  work ; 
secondly,  to  ascertain  the  nature  and  amount  of  the  work,  so  as 
to  be  able  to  estimate  its  value  correctly  in  reference  to  the 
several  contracts. 

These  functions  are  therefore  very  extensive  and  diverse. 
Yet  few  architects'  assistants,  most  of  them  having  come  from 
the  Ecole  cles  Beaux-Arts,  are  capable,  even  after  they  have  sjjent 
five  years  in  Italy  or  Greece,  of  fully  discharging  their  duty  ; 
the  boards  of  administration  therefore,  if  the  aflair  is  of  import- 
ance, employ  accountants  to  help  them,  who  have  to  get  the 
information  requu-ed  to  make  fair  copies  of  tlie  entries  and 
procure  the  data  required  for  verifying  the  accounts.  These 
accountants  are  rarely  men  acquainted  with  building ;  and  it  is 
not  their  provmce  to  sui^erintend  the  building  operations.  They 
must  rely  on  the  statements  or  accounts  furnished  by  the 
inspectors,  who,  having  either  too  much  to  occupy  them,  or  being 
little  versed  in  a  kind  of  work  that  requires  long  experience,  only 
supply  these  accountants  with  the  infonnation  they  themselves 
receive  from  the  contractor's  clerks.  Although  it  is  said  that 
there  should  be  two  copies  of  entries, — one  kept  by  the  con- 
tractor and  the  other  by  the  clerk  of  works, — it  often  happens 
that  the  clerk  only  takes  notes,  and  does  nothing  more  than  look 
over  and  copy  the  entries  furnished  by  the  contractor. 

The  great  point  is  not  so  much  to  have  two  entries  (which  is 
of  no  use  if  one  is  only  a  copy  of  the  other)  as  to  have  entries 
exactly  in  accordance  wnth  the  truth,  i.e.  the  actual  performance 
of  work.  Daily  note-books  have  therefore  been  adopted,  which, 
kept  by  the  clerks  of  the  contractor  and  clerks  of  the  architect, 
are  intended  to  check  each  other.    But  in  very  large  undertakings, 


LECTURE  XX.  421 

where  so  great  a  number  of  small  details  of  all  kinds  has  to  be 
considered,  it  is  often  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  enter  them 
all ;  though,  numerous  as  they  are,  they  affect  the  sum-total  of 
the  accounts.  Tliis  occasions  disputes,  which  are  generally 
settled  by  a  compromise,  wliich  is  not  the  absolute  truth. 

The  contractor  has  only  one  object  in  view — to  get  a  profit. 
The  achiiinistration,  on  the  other  hand,  thinks  only,  and  ought 
only  to  thmk,  of  paymg  according  to  the  stipulations  and  con- 
ditions of  the  contract.  If  the  contractor  perceives  that  he  is 
makmg  no  profit,  he  seeks  by  every  means  he  can  to  increase  the 
apparent  value  of  the  work  ;  if  the  architect  perceives  that  his 
anticipations  are  exceeded,  he  endeavours  to  bring  the  stipidations 
respecting  prices  to  bear  upon  reducing  the  amoiuit  of  the  sums 
to  be  paid,  as  far  as  he  can.  The  truth,  or  i-ather  the  real  value 
of  the  work,  Kes  generally  between  these  two  extremes.  And 
the  important  pomt  is  to  ascertam  this  value  exactly.  Only 
duly  kept  entries  dan  determine  it.  The  system  indicated  above 
is,  in  fact,  a  complete  and  satisfactory  one  only  as  regards  the 
contractor.  Those  current  entries,  if  fairly  copied,  even  suppose 
they  are  regularly  kept,  do  indeed  record  the  expenses  incurred 
by  the  contractor  for  materials,  labour,  and  incidentals,  but  they 
do  not  prove  that  such  amounts  are  la\\drull3^  due. 

Let  us  take  an  example  :  A  contractor  for  mason-work  buys 
stone  for  a  buUdmg  and  has  it  brought  to  the  site.  There  can 
be  no  doubt,  according  to  his  entries,  which  only  mention  the 
dehveries  of  materials,  that  he  has  really  got  and  paid  for  so 
many  cubic  yards  of  stone,  mentioned  m  the  books  of  entries 
aforesaid ;  but  if  he  has  a  competent  stone-cb-esser,  the  waste  in 
preparing  it  for  the  work  vrill  be  only  one-tenth ;  whereas  if  the 
dresser  is  uacompetent  or  careless,  the  waste  may  amount  even 
to  one-fifth.  Now,  what  the  architect  ought  to  reckon  for  is  the 
stone  as  most  economically  used.  The  accomit  ought  to  be  for 
thLs  maxunum  of  waste  only  ;  therefore,  although  the  contractor's 
entries  prove  to  the  architect  that  he  has  really  spent  the  amount 
entered,  it  does  not  prove  that  this  amount  is  due  to  him,  or 
that  there  is  a  fixed  proportion  to  be  deducted  from  this  sum, 
which  oidy  represents  a  material  in  the  rough.  The  architect's 
accoimt  is  therefore  distinct  from  the  contractor's  entry,  and 
mentions  only  what  is  recognised  by  the  clerks  as  actually 
used.  Tlae  accounts  from  the  architect's  point  of  view  are 
calcidated  from  the  entries  he  has  made  by  his  clerks,  and  which 
ought  to  be  checked  and  examined  by  the  contractor,  so  that  no 
discussion  may  be  raised  when  the  accounts  presented  are  scru- 
tinised. And  whereas  the  books  of  entries  are  easdy  kept,  when 
weights,  numbers,  sui-faces,  and  lengths  are  concerned,  they 
require  long  and  often  difficult  calculations  when  volumes  are  in 


422 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


question,  that  is  to  say,  freestone  actually  used,  and  whose  forms 
are  comphcated,  very  variable,  and  on  which  an  allowance  for 
waste  is  granted,  which  the  contractor  is  naturally  interested  to 
represent  as  considerable. 

There  is  a  very  simple  method  of  avoiding  these  difficvdties  re- 
specting the  vokmies  to  be  charged  as  actually  used,  viz.,  that  the 
architect  shoidd  himself  furnish  dimensions  for  the  dressed  stone. 

But  generally  he  is  occupied  with  questions  of  another  kind, 
and  when  he  gives  a  detail,  he  does  not  foresee  in  what  way  the 
stone-dressers  wiU  arrange  the  beds,  jomts,  and  sections  of  the 
stone  wlrich  is  to  be  used  in  this  detail.     Without  speaking  of 


T 


\ 


A 


1''10.  2. 


the  inconveniences,  both  in  regard  to  art  and  construction  which 
i-esult  from  such  disdain  on  the  part  of  architects  for  this  matter 
of  dressmg,  an  opportunity  is  given  in  its  management  for  the 
most  scandalous  abuses  and  useless  expenses.  And  it  is  on 
negligence  or  carelessness  respecting  it  on  the  part  of  architects 
in  charge  of  great  public  works,  tliat  unprincipled  contractors 
reckon  for  getting  handsome  profits,  whose  legitimacy  it  is 
impossible  to  contest. 

Thus,  supposing  (figure  2)  a  detail  given  liy  the  architect  to 


LECTURE  XX.  423 

the  stone-dresser,  without  indicating  the  section  of  the  joints — 
I  select  here  one  of  the  simplest  examples.  The  stone-dresser 
who  understands  and  consults  the  interests  of  his  employer  will 
take  care  not  to  ai'range  the  jomts  of  the  pier  as  indicated  at  A 
for  one  course,  and  at  B  for  that  above ;  he  will  place  the  joints 
as  marked  at  c.  For  both  as  regards  the  piece  A  and  that  marked 
B,  only  the  volumes  a  and  h  are  allowed  as  waste  on  the  stone 
ch'essing,  whereas  volumes  c  and  d  are  allowed  for  the  piece  c. 
Now,  supposing  the  stone-di'esser  to  understand  his  business,  he 
^vill  look  out  for  a  stone  in  the  rough,  E,  canted  or  sloping  at  the 
corners,  and  paid  for  to  the  person  who  supplies  the  stone  at  the 
rate  of  its  real  volume,  whereas  the  architect  will  reckon  as  waste 
triangles  that  never  existed,  and  will  on  his  jiart  pay  the  con- 
tractor for  this  piece  so  used  as  if  it  were  a  much  larger  volmne 
than  it  really  was ;  and  as  the  contractor  is  paid  not  only  the 
value  of  the  stone  supposed  to  be  cut  down  to  the  form  in 
question,  but  also  an  allowance  for  labour  in  cutting  it  down, 
the  result  is  that  he  is  credited  with  one  amount  for  which  no 
equivalent  has  been  received  in  materials,  and  with  a  second 
amoimt  for  work  that  has  not  been  done.  The  Renaissance 
architects  who  were  economical  in  regard  to  materials,  woidd 
have  jointed  these  jiiers  with  pilasters  as  represented  at  f.  They 
would  have  built  one  course  with  the  pilaster  forming  a  header, 
and  the  course  above  with  an  axis  joint  and  a  pilaster  block, 
following  the  dotted  Imes.  In  this  way  they  woidd  have  avoided 
waste  of  stone  altogether. 

In  the  above  example  the  loss  is  trifling  ;  but  when  archi- 
tectiiral  details  are  complex,  when  the  square  returns  are 
numerous,  when  the  projections  are  very  decided,  the  in- 
difi'erence  which  most  official  architects  manifest  respecting  the 
mode  of  jomting  the  stone,  results  in  useless  exj)ense  of  con- 
siderable amount. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  architects  took  the  precaution,  as  was 
done  in  the  "  barbarous  "  mediaeval  times,  to  give  the  dimensions 
of  the  stones  to  be  used  and  to  indicate  the  jointing,  they  would 
be  able  to  avoid  those  needless  expenses,  and  from  their  data 
extract  rehable  entries,  wliich  would  be  a  saving  of  tune  to  the 
clerks  and  insure  good  execution. 

It  is  indeed  true  that  for  oivuio-  these  data  for  stone-dressinef 
the  arcliitects  must  take  account  of  the  nature  of  the  materials 
(i.e.  stone)  suppHed  for  the  builcUng. 

Formerly  the  courses  of  hard  stone  used  in  Paris  were  of 
inconsiderable  width  ;  Bagneux  rock  was  not  more  than  20  mches 
between  the  beds,  and  has  10  to  12  inches.  In  oiu'  days  hard 
stone  is  brought  from  the  quarries  of  Eastern  France  and  Bur- 
gundy 24  to  32  inches  high.     It  would  be  reasonable  to  subor- 


424 


LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 


dinate  the  members  of  the  architecture  to  these  dimensions, — 
within  certain  hmits, — as  the  "  barbarous  "  masters  of  tire  Middle 
Ages  and  those  of  the  Renaissance  subordinated  the  members  of 
their  architecture  to  the  heights  of  courses  at  their  disposah 

Our  architects  do  not  seem  to  pay  any  attention,  for  the 
most  J3art,  to  such  questions,  and  we  have  to  bear  the  cost  of 
their  carelessness  in  this  respect.  Thus  any  one  may  see  in 
public  buUdings  recently  erected  stylobates  (figure  3),  whose 
beds  are  placed  at  J  instead  of  at  A.  The  consequence  is  that, 
as  we  said  above,  the  stone  that  occupied  the  space  of  the 
sinkings  at  a  and  c,  and  the  work  of  cutting  it  down,  have 
been  paid  for,  instead  of  oidy  the  chamfering  66.  If  this  is  re- 
peated in  hnes  of  building  extending  for  a  length  of  five  or  ten 
furlongs,  and  several  times  in  the  height  of  the  elevations,  these 
needless  expenses  reach  a  considerable  figure. 


3 


t^ 


A>_ 

A 

d 

7> 

A 

c\ 

\ 

Our  Boards  of  Works  are  generally  very  indifferent  to  con- 
siderations of  this  kind ;  what  they  look  for  are  statements  of 
accounts  in  good  form,  and  didy  balanced,  so  as  to  be  perfectly 
regidar  m  appearance. 

What  they  are  cliiefly  concerned  with  is  to  comply  with  the 
tastes  of  an  all-powerful  corporate  body  which  has  favours  and 
places  to  dispose  of  The  employment  of  simple,  reasonable,  and 
economical  methods  has  little  mterest  for  them. 

And  what  has  just  been  said  respecting  stone  is  applicable  to 
all  parts  of  the  consti-uction  also.  The  superfluous  weight  of 
iron  employed  in  most  of  our  pubhc  buildings  is  moi'e  than  any 
one  coidd  imagine,  because  architects  will  not  calculate  the 
strength  wliich  is  absolutely  necessary,  and  generally  rely  on  the 
contractors,  who  are  not  likely  to  find  fault  with  the  excessive 


LECTURE  XX.  425 

use  of  such  materials.  As  iron  is  paid  for  by  weight,  and  as  the 
workmanship  which  constitutes  a  great  part  of  tlie  vahie  of 
the  result  is  not  proportioned  to  the  weight,  it  is  always  to  the 
interest  of  the  contractor  to  supply  heavy  pieces ;  antl  if  the 
architect  is  not  in  a  position  to  determine  the  maxhuum  of 
weight  necessary  for  a  given  part,  if  he  has  not  become  perfectly 
acquainted  with  the  strains  and  pressures, — he  will  be  disposed, 
for  fear  of  compromising  his  own  responsibility,  to  give  ear  to 
the  representations  of  the  conti-actor,  who  in  his  own  interest  is 
always  mchned  to  exaggerate  the  weight  required.  And  I 
would  ask  whether  it  is  at  Rome  or  Athens  that  architects  are 
likely  to  gam  the  experience  required  for  deciding  in  such  a  case  ? 

When  building  Ls  well  managed,  the  entries  will  follow 
almost  word  for  word  the  orders  and  details  given.  And  if  the 
boards  of  management  were  careful  to  protect  the  interests 
intrusted  to  them,  rather  than  willing  to  submit  to  the  dominant 
coterie  or  school ;  if,  mstead  of  meddling  with  questions  of  art 
with  which  they  are  not  conversant,  and  which  they  are  not 
capable  of  discussing,  they  would  concern  themselves  with  the 
interests  with  wliich  alone  they  have  to  do,  their  attention  would 
be  chiefly  occupied  with  an  attentive  examuiation  of  these  details 
of  budding  transactions. 

They  would  then  soon  become  aware  of  the  amount  of  useless 
expense  which  they  sufl'er  to  be  incurred,  though  the  books  are 
kept  ^^'ith  perfect  regidarity.  They  would  perceive  that  the 
gi'eat  point  is,  not  to  avoid  paying  for  more  than  is  done,  but  to 
prevent  so  much  from  being  done, — paying  for  what  is  im- 
necessary ;  not  to  allow  ignorance,  indiiierence,  or  caprice  to 
swell  the  budget  of  charges  with  items  by  which  no  good  result 
is  secured,  and  wliich  scandalise  sensible  persons,  without  any 
advantage  on  the  score  of  arcliitecture,  whose  first  law  is  to  pro- 
portion the  outlay  to  the  object  contemplated. 

As  soon  as  a  board  of  management  presiding  over  architec- 
tural ojDerations,  mstead  of  being  a  mere  registiy- office  for  the 
laureates  of  the  Institute  (who  are  more  and  more  completely 
aUenated  from  those  studies  which  our  times  require  for  producing 
good  builders),  and  for  the  associates  of  the  dominant  body, — shall 
determine  to  take  the  place  assigned  it  in  the  commonwealth,  it 
will  interest  itself  in  the  management  of  building  works  in  a  far 
difterent  fashion  from  that  which  consists  in  makmg  regulations 
which  do  not  invariably  harmonise  with  practical  requu-ements. 
It  will  insist  on  knowing  how  the  architects  it  employs  deal  with 
the  contractors,  and  how  their  orders  are  given  ;  if  there  are 
any  who  endeavour  to  simplify  methods  and  appliances,  it  ■udll 
take  care  to  distinguish  them  ;  for  it  may  be  remarked  that  in 
case  their  artistic  merit  is  always  alhed  with  a  capability  of 


426  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

directing  the  works,  initiative  power,  a  clear  understanding 
between  them  and  their  subordinates,  sinipHtication  of  the 
methods  adopted,  and  regularity  in  keeping  accounts. 

There  is  one  more  question  of  prime  importance,  which  ought 
to  have  the  serious  attention  of  the  boards  of  management  on 
whom  the  dii-ection  of  pubhc  works  devolves,  viz.,  that  relating 
to  the  determination  of  a  scale  of  piices. 

Hitherto  the  administration  of  the  city  of  Paris,  as  is  the 
case  with  others,  has  been  accustomed  to  fix  a  scale  of  prices  for 
the  current  year.  I  do  not  doubt  the  care  exercised  in  fixing 
these  prices,  but  the  proverb,  "  He  who  reckons  without  his  host 
has  to  reckon  twice,"  is  applicable  to  the  case  in  question.  It  is 
very  strange  that  administrative  bodies,  however  enlightened, 
should  undertake  to  determine  unaided  the  bases  of  their 
bargains  with  contractors.  This  method,  which  is  none  other 
than  that  of  the  imiximum  imposed  on  commerce,  has  been  long 
and  jiistly  condemned  by  political  economists.  The  materials 
supplied  and  worked  up  by  a  contractor  are,  in  fact,  a  kind  of 
commodity,  quite  as  much  as  a  loaf  of  sugar  or  a  coat.  It  is 
now  proposed  to  ask  contractors  to  co-operate  m  determining 
price-lists  in  future ;  this  is  a  step  in  advance.  But  woidd  it  not 
be  more  just  to  allow  full  liberty  in  such  arrangements,  and  to  fix 
price-Usts  not  for  the  works  to  be  undertaken  during  the  whole 
year,  but  for  each  undertaking  in  particular  ?  This  would  obhge 
architects  to  concern  themselves  with  these  important  questions 
to  which  they  pay  no  attention  now ;  to  inquii'e  for  themselves 
into  the  prices  which  such  or  such  circumstances  or  class  of  work 
woidd  reasonably  suggest ;  and  perhaps  the  obligation  to  study 
this  matter  would  obhge  them  to  modify  plans  to  the  advantage 
of  their  clients,  which,  for  the  most  part,  are  prepared  with  a  very 
imperfect  knowledge  of  the  means  adapted  to  realise  them. 

An  architect  cannot  see  to  everything  himself:  he  must 
have  an  extraordinary  faculty  if  he  can ;  but  he  ought  to  be 
aware  of  all  that  is  being  done,  and  must  have  the  various 
details  present  to  his  mmd,  so  that  he  may  give  a  clear  answer 
to  the  questions  that  are  continually  being  put  to  hun. 

Each  of  his  clerks,  if  he  employs  several, — and  he  has 
generally  more  than  is  needful,  because  the  board  makes  a  point 
of  providing  as  many  posts  as  possible, — would  have  a  definite 
part  of  the  work  intrusted  to  his  supervision,  and  consequently  a 
share  in  the  responsibility.  Each  of  the  clerks,  I  say,  woidd  give  a 
daily  account  of  his  section  of  the  work,  of  the  delays  occasioned, 
and  the  diflicidties  that  may  have  occurred,  as  also  of  the  cases 
of  faidty  work,  if  any  such  have  to  be  reported  ;  and  these 
obsei'vations  should  be  consigned  by  him  to  a  register  kept  for 
the  purpose.     The  arclutect,  if  he  observes  at  all,  will  soon  have 


LECTURE  XX.  427 

recognised  the  special  aptitudes  of  each  of  these  clerks,  and  he 
will  employ  them  accordingly.  The  architect  himself  should  be 
quite  free  in  the  choice  of  his  clerks,  for  if  he  assumes  a  respon- 
sibUity,  the  very  least  he  can  requii-e  is  the  hberty  to  choose  the 
staff  he  thinks  smtable.  Instead  of  nominating  those  employed 
in  such  agencies,  the  administration  should  simply  grant  the 
architect  such  or  such  a  sum  in  proportion  to  the  extent  and 
importance  of  the  imdertaking,  lea\'ing  it  to  him  to  allot  it  in 
such  a  way  as  he  thinks  fit  to  the  clerks  he  chooses.  But  it  Ls 
clear  to  all  that  we  have  not  advanced  far  enough  for  this,  and 
that  we  should  have  to  make  many  changes  in  oiu-  administrative 
regime  before  we  can  attain  such  a  correct  appreciation  of 
responsibUity  in  pubhc  works. 

The  clerks  of  works,  of  whom  the  number  employed  is  too 
great,  as  remarked  above — clerks  who  are  insufficiently  paid, 
because  there  are  too  many  of  them — do  but  httle,  and  that 
little  without  much  order  or  method.  Consequently,  it  is  often 
difiicult  to  veiify  statements  of  accounts,  and  there  are  contests 
and  disputed  claims  without  end,  as  also  an  insufficient  super- 
intendence of  the  works.  The  clerks  visit  them  in  the  after- 
noon, at  nearly  the  same  hour.  The  foremen  are  not  long  in 
obser\'ing  this,  and  if  they  have  any  defective  materials  to 
smuggle  in,  or  if  they  have  any  interest  in  neglecting  a  part  of 
the  work,  they  take  care  to  manage  it  between  six  in  the  morn- 
ing and  noon. 

The  indifference,  incapacity,  and  want  of  care  and  exact- 
ness which  have  been  so  fatal  to  us  lately,  and  which  have 
all  but  ruined  us,  have  long  been  characteristic  of  oiu'  building 
operations.  Is  it  to  obviate  the  consequences  of  such  a  state  of 
things  that  ai-chitects  are  accustomed  to  employ  in  the  public 
buildings  they  erect,  half  as  much  more  of  materials  than  are 
needed  ?  Is  it  to  prevent  the  catastrophes  which  that  want  of 
supei'^Tsion  and  precision  might  sometimes  occasion,  that  they 
have  recourse  to  this  excess  of  strength  ?  However  this  may  be, 
there  is  room  for  reform.  But  to  secm-e  reform,  the  very  first 
requirement  is  that  we  put  aside  questions  of  persons  ;  whereas 
hitherto,  both  under  a  monarchical  and  a  repubhcan  form  of 
government,  French  administration  makes  questions  of  persons 
the  chief  consideration. 

The  management  of  building  operations  requires  certain 
abilities  which  are  not  univereaUy  met  with,  and  to  which  pei'haps 
it  would  be  well  to  call  attention  in  that  part  of  a  course  of  in- 
struction which  should  treat  of  administrative  questions.  It  can 
be  proved  that  architect's  clerks  employed  m  works  adopt  more 
or  less  the  master's  ways  of  doing  things,  because  tliis  stage  in 
their  course  Ls  almost  the  only  training  of  the  kind  they  get;  as  the 


428  LECTURES  OX  ARCHITECTURE. 

£co!e  ties  Beaux-Arts  does  not  consider  it  necessary  to  indicate 
any  rules  of  conduct  in  such  matters.  If  the  master  is  a  man  of 
sense,  orderly,  exact,  and  skilful,  the  clerks  subject  to  liis  orders 
become  habituated  to  such  modes  of  being  and  acting,  and  derive 
advantage  from  them.  But  if  that  master  is  a  blunderer, 
uncei'tain  and  luiskilful  in  his  relations  with  the  contractors  and 
the  workmen,  liis  staff  of  clerks  soon  fall  into  the  same 
imdesirable  ways,  having  had  no  previous  training  to  prevent 
them  from  doing  so.  And  thus  we  see  deplorable  methods 
propagated  from  generation  to  generation. 

Besides  merit  as  an  artist,  an  architect  ought  to  possess 
qualifications  of  other  kinds  which  are  required  in  his  relations 
with  boards  of  management  or  chents,  and  with  his  subordinates. 
Although  such  quahfications  pertain  to  general  character,  they 
may  nevei'theless  be  developed  to  a  certain  extent  by  education, 
in  the  case  of  those  who  do  not  originally  possess  them.  I  say 
by  education.  Along  with  the  tlieoretical  instruction  which 
young  architects  require,  certain  rides  of  conduct  should  be  tauglit 
them  which  are  now  left  for  experience,  time,  and  cncumstances 
to  teach  them,  often  at  a  considerable  cost  to  themselves,  or  to 
the  detriment  of  their  chents.  If  architects  formed  a  body,  it 
would  be  the  duty  of  tliis  body  to  determine  such  rules  of  con- 
duct ;  but  we  have  explained  above  why  the  constitution  of  such 
an  association  is  impossible  under  present  circumstances  :  the 
elements  being  wanting,  and  our  architects  not  being  generally 
convinced  of  the  necessity  of  maintaining  independence  of 
character  before  all  things  in  presence  of  those  influences  with 
which  they  come  in  contact.  We  are  so  httle  accustomed  to 
such  mdependence  that  many  confoiuid  that  mental  characteristic 
with  an  odious  fault, — viz.,  the  being  constantly  in  a  state  of 
revolt  against,  or  systematic  opposition  to,  authority.  And  yet, 
if  we  would  reflect  and  observe  a  little,  we  should  see  that  really 
independent  characters  are  those  which  give  to  such  authority, 
whatever  it  may  be,  the  surest  guarantees  ;  for  the  very  reason, 
that  having  accepted  a  contract,  a  cominission,  a  function,  a 
charge  quite  freely,  they  have  no  other  desire  than  that  of 
acquittmg  themselves,  with  the  greatest  credit,  of  engagements 
to  which  they  have  freely  consented,  without  any  other  thought 
than  that  of  furthering  the  oljject  they  have  to  promote. 

It  is  the  weak  point  of  arbitrary  power  that  in  a  short  time 
it  has  to  fall  back  upon  those  who  have  no  settled  conviction, — 
however  submissive  they  may  be, — who  have  no  independent 
opinion  or  individual  energy, — and  who  cannot  therefore  be 
reckoned  upon  at  a  critical  moment.  When  that  power  becomes 
enfeebled,  the  servility  which  is  called  devotion,  abandons,  if  it 
does  not  even  turn  against  it. 


LECTURE  XX.  429 

A  biiilding-yard  is  a  government  on  a  small  scale ;  and  we 
soon  perceive,  from  the  way  in  wluch  its  affairs  are  administered, 
and  from  the  results  produced,  whether  he  who  directs  it  is  equal 
to  his  work  or  not.  To  know  how  to  insj^ire  all  with  the  sentiment 
of  duty  by  being  himself  the  most  energetic  in  performing  it,  is 
the  chief  obligation  imposed  on  the  architect.  To  do  everything 
simply  and  without  "  fuss,"  but  exactly  at  the  right  moment ;  to 
anticipate  the  course  of  things,  and  not  to  adopt  any  decision 
before  having  maturely  reflected  on  it  and  listened  to  the 
criticisms  of  all  who  are  interested  in  it — though  having  once 
adojjted  it,  to  mamtain  it  unchangeably  firmly  and  consistently, — 
such  is  the  hue  of  condvict  whose  prudence  and  wisdom  will 
enable  us  to  avoid  grievous  miscalculations.  Always  to  be  on 
good  terms  with  subordinates,  without  lapsing  mto  familiarity ;  to 
listen  patiently  to  all  remonstrances,  but  to  examine  everything 
one's-self ;  to  be  perfectly  equitable  in  all  cases  of  dispute ;  to 
take  on  one's-self  the  responsibility  of  agents  directly  subject  to 
the  orders  of  the  chief,  reprimanding  them,  however,  in  private 
with  due  severity,  if  they  have  committed  an  error ;  never  to  trust 
to  mere  affirmation,  but  to  verify  it  by  personal  examination  ;  to 
have  a  clear  idea  of  one's  plans,  and  to  explain  them  intelligibly,  and 
to  remain  true  to  one's  word,  will  secure  deference,  resjject,  and 
confidence  among  employes,  and  attach  men  of  good  principle  to 
one's  interests — the  only  persons  whose  devotion  is  w^orth  having ; 
for  it  must  not  be  supposed  that  in  buildmg-yards  devotedness 
based  on  the  esteem  and  respect  felt  for  the  princijjal  can  be 
dispensed  \Adth.  Neither  the  satisfaction  of  material  interests 
nor  high  salaries  can  take  the  place  of  support  of  this  kind, 
which  is  necessary  to  the  success  of  undertakings  ;  the  attach- 
ment which  we  think  we  secure  liy  giving  mere  material  advan- 
tages is  as  transient  as  these  favoui-s  themselves  can  be.  He 
who  has  pocketed  his  profit  or  his  sgjary,  has  put  into  his  purse, 
along  with  his  money,  the  attachment  he  had  shown,  and  it  is 
ready  to  pass  into  other  hands.  But  attachment  to  an  equitable, 
firm,  and  benevolent  character, — to  one  who  knows  how  to 
appreciate  and  recognise  the  service  that  has  been  rendered,  and 
to  sustain  those  who  have  aided  him  in  the  accomplishment  of  a 
duty, — attachment  of  this  kind  may  be  permanently  relied  on  ; 
and  though  few  men  are  capable  of  offering  it  and  mamtaining 
it,  you  may  at  least  be  assured  that  it  will  never  fixil  you.  Good 
discipline  in  a  builcUng-yard  can  be  established  only  on  the  respect 
felt  for  the  principal  and  his  abilities  and  character.  On  the 
other  hand,  want  of  discipline  results  in  unperfect  execution  and 
needless  expenses,  if  in  nothing  worse  ;  and  it  occasions  em- 
barrassments without  end.  Yet  do  om-  boards  of  administration 
seriously  concern  themselves  with  these  coiiditions  ? 


430  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTVRK 

We  have  all  observed  architects  whose  habit  it  is  never  to 
give  clear  instructions ;  who  are  constantly  agitated ;  who  are 
out  of  temper  with  everybody  and  apropos  of  everything;  rude  to 
their  inferiors,  and  obliging  them  to  begin  again  and  again  a  detail 
for  whose  execution  they  have  not  given  a  single  precise  order ; 
who  thmk  they  impose  respect  by  blustering  and  the  often 
groundless  outbreaks  of  their  imperious  anger ;  who  ai'e  incapable 
of  examining  and  correcting  a  diagram,  and  who  resent  criticism 
because  they  are  unable  to  discuss  its  validity, — assuming  to 
determine  everything  by  their  own  arbitrary  will.  .  .  .  But  see 
these  very  persons,  who  fancy  that  they  inspire  respect  or  fear  in 
their  subordinates  by  this  ridiculous  attitude,  but  whom  the  latter 
deceive  as  often  as  they  can, — which  by  the  by  is  not  very 
difficult, — see  these  men  in  presence  of  the  directors  of 
administrative  boards.  They  are  supple  as  gloves,  fair-spoken, 
and  full  of  the  most  obsequious  deference  ;  promising  everything, 
affirming  everything  which  it  is  wished  they  should  affirm,  and 
saying  no  to  everything  for  which  a  negative  is  desired.  .  .  .  And 
so  they  are  looked  upon  with  a  favourable  eye,  and  are  sirre  to 
obtain  advantages  of  all  kinds.  Otlier  types  among  this  favoured 
class  of  architects  might  be  noticed.  .  .  .  But  why  should  we 
enlarge  ?  It  is  more  to  the  purpose  to  remark,  in  conclusion,  that 
to  make  an  aichitect  we  must  get  in  the  first  place  what  was 
formerly  called  "an  honest  man;"  and  we  may  safely  assert  that 
in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  such  a  character  is  associated  with  true 
talent,  knowledge,  and  experience. 


CONCLUSION. 

THIS  work  makes  no  pretension  to  offer  a  complete  course 
of  theoretical  or  practical  Architecture, — to  give  architects 
who  are  entering  on  the  profession,  or  the  pubhc  at  large, 
a  resume  of  the  knowledge  requisite  for  those  who  devote 
themselves  to  the  art  of  building.  Written  at  intervals,  these 
Lectures  are  only  a  kind  of  landmarks  whose  object  it  is  to 
show  the  direction  which  architectural  studies  should  take,  if 
the  question  shoidd  ever  come  to  be  seriously  discussed. 

Owing  to  various  circumstances  an  interval  of  more  than 
twelve  years  has  elapsed  between  the  day  when  the  first  of  these 
Lectiures  appeared  and  the  issue  of  the  last.  But  sentiments 
foreign  to  the  art  whose  cause  I  have  endeavoured,  and  shall,  I 
trust,  always  endeavour,  to  defend,  have  never  influenced  my 
thoughts. 

Begun  in  a  spirit  of  perfect  independence,  this  work  is  con- 
cluded in  the  same  disposition  of  mind,  and  with  the  deepest 
conviction  that  art  can  be  develoj^ed  and  maintained  at  a 
superior  level  only  by  hberty  united  with  an  incessant  study  of 
the  novel  conditions  which  science  is  from  time  to  time  im- 
posing on  our  civilisation. 

During  the  interval  referred  to,  some  inadequate  endeavours 
have  been  made  to  restore  to  architectiu-al  studies  a  more  serious 
and  liberal  direction ;  and  painful  events  have  subjected  our 
country  to  the  severest  trials.  All  are  convmced  that  most 
strenuous  efforts  are  necessary  to  replace  France  in  the 
position  it  ought  to  occupy  in  Europe,  if  only  in  the  interest  of 
civilisation, — to  say  nothing  of  its  own  advantage.  Hitherto  we 
are  not  able  to  say  whether  the  salutary  reaction  in  favour  of 
studies  whose  extreme  importance  is  recognised  by  all  will 
become  a  practical  as  well  as  a  theoretical  one  ;  and  in  fact  as 
scarcely  a  year  has  elapsed  since  the  terrible  shocks  to  which  the 
countiy  has  been  subjected,  we  can  scarcely  expect  it  to  have 
already  regained  its  sang-froid  and  tranquil  deportment.  But 
it  is  for  men  of  principle  to  endeavour  to  make  some  advance 
every  day,  and  to  restore  intellectual  as  well  as  material  order. 
It  is  something  to  have  recognised  numerous  defects  in  our  system 


432  LECTURES  OK  ARCHITECTURE. 

of  instruction,  but  this  does  not  amount  to  the  attainment  of  a 
satisfactory  system  ;  and  from  the  desire  to  possess  to  actual 
possession  there  is  a  considerable  step.  It  is  this  step  which  we 
shoidd  take  without  delay.  Still,  it  is  well  to  know  what  this 
really  imports. 

Our  temperament,  as  Frenchmen,  inchnes  us  to  pass  rapidly 
from  one  extreme  to  the  other ;  and  just  as  we  were  disposed 
under  the  late  regime  to  regard  everything  as  for  the  best  in  the 
intellectual  domain  of  France;  just  as  we  gave  way  to  an 
infatuation  which  the  wisest  did  not  succeed  in  shaking  off,  so 
now  we  are  disposed  to  an  excessive  disparagement  of  our 
advantages,  knowledge,  and  social  condition.  But  let  us 
endeavour  to  be  just  to  ourselves,  and  not  discourage  minds 
which  are  only  too  easily  disheartened,  by  exaggerating  the 
amount  of  effort  we  have  to  make.  We  thought  too  much  of 
ourselves  formerly,  there  is  no  doubt ;  but  there  would  be  quite 
as  much  danger  to  the  future  of  om-  country  in  the  contrary 
extreme.  Our  misfortunes  have  not  deprived  us  of  our 
intellectual  and  moral  advantages ;  they  have  only  discovered 
to  ourselves  defects  which  our  country  alone  of  aU  European 
nations  was  unwdhng  to  recognise. 

The  last  word  of  Septimus  Severus  when  dying  is  in  all 
men's  mouths, — " Lahorcmus."  It  is  a  noble  word;  let  us  pro- 
ceed to  translate  it  mto  action. 

But  there  are  two  methods  of  working  :  there  is  methodical 
work, — that  which  supposes  persistency,  examination,  and  obser- 
vation ;  and  there  is  also  work  of  a  difiuse,  impulsive,  unpro- 
ductive order,  and  which  can  be  compared  with  nothing  so  well 
as  the  motion  of  a  squirrel  in  a  rotating  cage.  The  agitation  m 
which  the  country  has  been  plunged  has  moreover  prevented 
it  from  distinguishing  that  kind  of  labour  which  could  alone 
dehver  it  from  its  depression,  and  promise  it  a  better  future. 

If  the  terrible  shock  which  France  has  just  experienced  did 
not  serve  as  a  warning ;  if  the  country  believed — whatever  form 
of  government  it  may  give  itself — tliat  it  could  continue  to  live 
as  it  had  done,  its  part  among  European  States  would  be 
already  played  out. 

Many  persons,  while  regretting  our  departed  prosperity  and 
diminished  glory,  fondly  imagine  that  to  restore  our  prosperity 
and  recover  our  time-honoured  reputation,  it  woidd  sufHce  to 
replace  the  label  "Empire"  or  "Monarchy"  on  our  country's 
front.  .  .  .  Grievous  delusion  !  .  .  .  No  such  inscription  can 
conceal  that  of  which  we  have  been  the  witnesses,  or  deliver  us 
from  those  millions  of  enemies  whom  a  crafty  and  fore-sighted 
pohcy  has  long  been  arousmg  against  French  uatellect  and  its 
influence. 


CONCLUSION.  433 

Only  one  way  of  deliverance  remains  to  us, — only  one  method 
of  inflicting  that  retaliation  which  some  think  so  easy,  \\z.,  a 
calm,  persevering,  sustained,  and  orderly  eftbrt,  organised  by  in- 
dividual enterprise  in  all  departments, — pohtics,  manufactures, 
commerce,  agriculture,  finances,  war,  science,  arts,  and  literature. 

We  must  yield  to  the  conviction  that  our  means  of  instruc- 
tion are  insufficient,  since  they  have  allowed  us  to  be  surpassed 
by  those  envious  neighbours,  with  their  slow  though  crafty 
intelligence,  whom,  in  our  simplicity,  we  formerly  regarded  only 
as  rivals. 

Patriotic  sentiment  is  enfeebled  among  us — let  us  hojae  that 
it  is  not  extinct ;  education  alone  can  develop  it  once  more,  as 
it  did  among  our  neighboiu's  on  the  other  side  the  Rhine,  after 
the  wars  at  the  beginning  of  the  century.  Not  that  I  think  it 
commendable  to  make  the  diffusion  of  knowledge  among  a  people 
the  means  of  exciting  hateful  passions  against  those  neighbours 
by  falsifying  history  or  the  circumstances  of  our  own  time. 
Sooner  or  later  such  a  course  is  injurious  to  those  who  adopt  it ; 
moreover,  I  do  not  think  it  can  even  temporarily  succeed  among 
a  people  whose  discei'nment  is  naturally  acute ;  on  the  contrary, 
I  behave  that  in  everything  honesty  is  the  best  policy, — in  states- 
manship as  well  as  in  the  ordinary  aftau's  of  life  ;  considering 
that  it  is  not  necessary  to  be  either  a  dupe  or  an  ignoramus  in 
order  to  be  honest.  An  education,  hberal  in  the  most  compre- 
hensive sense,  would  remove  a  great  many  prejudices  which  now 
divide  us.  And  I  do  not  intend  by  this  merely  primary  educa- 
tion, but  the  higher  teaching,  which  among  ourselves  has 
remained  narrow  and  exclusive,  and  tends  rather  to  limit  men's 
intellects  than  to  widen  their  views  in  every  direction.  In 
architecture,  for  example,  the  Ecole  des  Becwx-Ai'ts  gives  ex- 
pression only  to  limited  formulas,  and  has  ceased  to  hold  even 
beliefs  ;  its  influence  over  the  minds  of  its  pupils  is  derived 
simply  from  the  prizes  it  oft'ers  and  the  places  for  which  it  bids 
them  hope  as  the  result  of  gaining  those  prizes.  Far  from  seek- 
ing to  develop  individuality,  it  suppresses  it  as  far  as  possible, 
and  declares  open  war  against  originality.  Independence  and 
the  spirit  of  inquiry  are  its  dread. 

The  Academie  des  Beaux- Art.^  assumes  inftillibility  Uke  the 
Church  of  Rome,  and  excommunicates  those  who  refuse  to  admit 
it.  And, — which  is  a  matter  of  serious  moment, — the  Govern- 
ment makes  itself  the  executor  of  its  decrees,  tlu'ough  indiffer- 
ence quite  as  much  as  weakness. 

There  is  in  my  view  only  one  means  of  conquering  this  vis 
inerticB  and  eliciting  a  real  development  of  ajsthetic  studies  ;  and 
that  is  the  cessation  of  State  interference  with  matters  of  art., 
and  the  limiting  of  its  patronage  to  the  recompence  of  results ; 

VOL.  II.  2  E 


434  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

to  the  exclusion   of  tlic  pliui  of  holding  forth   hopes  of  place 
and  preferment. 

Artists,  it  will  be  objected,  are  incapable  of  providing  them- 
selves with  a  government,  and  consequently  of  providing  the 
means  of  instruction.  They  are  certainly  incapable  of  doing  so, 
but  it  is  because  for  the  last  three  centuries  there  has  been  an 
assiuiiption  on  the  part  of  others  of  the  right  to  govern  them. 
But  should  we  endeavour  to  abandon  this  regime  ?  In  the  pre- 
sent state  of  things,  and  in  consequence  of  that  long  tutelage, 
every  artist  looks  at  the  interest  of  his  fellow-artists  through  the 
medium  of  his  own.  As  for  the  interest  of  art  itself,  or  of  that 
which  pertains  to  it,  and  its  development  and  glory,  each  one 
regards  it  as  bound  up  with  his  individuality  as  an  artist. 
Cease  to  undertake  to  arbitrate  between  these  novel  interests, 
whether  of  individuals  or  coteries  ;  do  not  cherish  the  vain  hope 
of  gaining  any  advantage  from  commissions,  committees,  and 
associations ;  abandon  a  system  of  protection  which  only  protects 
mediocrity. 

When  the  first  agitation  has  passed  away,  and  when  the 
minds  of  our  countrymen,  disturbed  by  such  violent  shocks,  are 
somewhat  tranquillised,  we  shall  see  the  level  restored.  Honour- 
able and  elevated  intellects, — by  their  very  nature  disposed  to 
hold  aloof  from  partisan  considerations,  and  the  wearisome  com- 
monplaces of  studios, — compelled  to  quit  their  position  of  neutral- 
ity, will  ultimately  disentangle  what  is  true  and  important  in 
art  from  that  chaos  which  protection  only  serves  to  prolong. 

Leaving  aside  personal  considerations,  whatever  the  school 
to  which  they  belong,  artists  of  real  worth  will  take  their  stand 
by  wide  and  liberal  ideas. 

Those  among  them  who  love  their  art  will  be  willing  to 
sacrifice  questions  of  secondary  importance  in  order  to  save  its 
interests. 

I  do  not  indeed  flatter  myself  that  among  those  exalted 
personages  whose  position  is  secured,  and  who,  through  a 
natural  instinct  of  self-preservation,  are  little  disposed  to  hold 
the  ladder  on  which  rising  talent  may  ascend,  there  will  be 
many  such  conversions.  I  have  never  put  much  faith  in  "  Nights 
of  the  Fourth  of  A  ugust." '  But  our  younger  men  will  be  roused 
to  energy  when  the  enervating  allurements  of  prizes,  the  gaining 
of  which  they  are  led  to  believe  will  insure  their  fortune,  shall 
have  been  removed  ;  when  they  are  convinced  that  nothing  but 
pei'sistent  study  and  labour  will  secure  them  a  distinction  which 
cannot  be  purchased  by  those  chamber  triumphs  which  are  too 
often  obtained  by  methods  with  which  art  has  no  concern.     "  Do 

'  The  4tli  of  August   1789,   when  in  the  National  Assembly  the  Viscount  tie  Noaillea, 
the  Duke  de  ChUtelet,  and  others  of  the  nobility,  proposed  the  abolition  of  privileges. —  Tr. 


CONCLUSION.  435 

not  abandon  artLsts  to  their  own  guidance,"  say  those  exalted 
personages  who  are  honestly  convinced  that  art  cannot  dispense 
with  the  guardianship  of  the  State.  "  They  are  incapable  of 
directing  the  interests  of  art ;  it  would  be  the  ruin  of  the  French 
School  I  "  But  surely  we  must  suppose  art  in  our  days  to  have 
a  very  fi-ail  existence  if  we  can  suppose  it  crushed  by  the  aboli- 
tion, for  example,  of  the  Direction  des  Beaux-Arts.  What ! 
art  ill  France  ?  in  the  nineteenth  century  ? — that  art  whose 
vitality  appears  everywhere,  which  is  displayed  in  our  manu- 
factures, our  habits  and  customs,  our  dwellings,  oiur  dress — that 
art  which  has  become  an  unconscious  need,  so  to  speak,  of  the 
inhabitants  of  oiu-  towns, — <;an  this  art  be  dependent  on  a 
bureau  ?  Abolish  that  .  .  .  and  avt  in  France  ceases  to  exist, 
and  we  suddenly  fall  back  into  barbarism  I 

No ;  such  is  not  the  real  order  of  cause  and  effect,  and  it  is 
high  time  we  referred  such  matters  to  a  higher  source.  Art  is 
our  own  ;  it  depends  on  ourselves,  and  is  not  at  the  mercy  of  a 
■raandarinate  or  a  board  of  administration.  I  am  mclined  to  think 
that,  on  the  contrary,  art  would  be  the  gainer  if  artists  were 
responsible  for  considting  their  own  interests — if  necessity  obhged 
them  to  occupy  themselves  with  their  own  affairs,  and  if  they 
had  a  feelingf  of  collective  obhration.  At  all  tinies  there  have 
been  .short-sighted  persons  who  have  insisted  on  the  existence  of 
precipices  in  eveiy  domain  extending  beyond  their  own  sphere 
of  \Tsion.  The  exercise  of  hberty  and  individual  enterprise 
necessitates  resiUts  which  no  human  prudence  can  foi'esee. 

The  duty  of  the  State  as  regards  the  teaching  of  the  arts  in 
general,  and  of  architecture  in  particular,  is  to  open  museums 
and  galleries  of  art,  arranged  so  as  to  promote  study,  and 
libraries ;  to  endow  courses  of  lectures  of  a  superior  order ; 
and  to  facilitate  instruction  by  all  available  means. 

The  encouragement  it  gives  shoidd  be  limited  to  selecting 
the  best  among  the  productions  offered,  paying  well  for  them, 
and  exliibiting  them  as  models  to  be  copied ;  and  making  the 
designs  of  pubhc  buildings  to  be  erected  subjects  of  competition, 
obliging  the  competitors  to  give  a  real  proof  of  their  powers, 
which  should  be  submitted  to  a  juiy,  as  impartial  as  possible, — 
as  remarked  above. 

With  these  exceptions,  let  it  leave  the  caxe  of  forming 
capable  men  to  private  enterprise,  and  select  from  among  the 
latter  as  the  result  of  trial,  not  choosing  the  favoiu-itcs  of  a 
coterie,  or  those  who  have  passed  tedious  hours  in  the  ante- 
chambers of  board-rooms. 

Above  all,  let  the  State  not  attempt  to  discriminate  between 
high  and  inferior  art.  That  is  not  its  concern ;  it  is  no  more 
capable  of  deciding  in  such  matters  than  of  ascertaining  whether 


436  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

its  citizens  are  more  or  less  profoundly  devout,  or  whether  they 
are  devout  at  all.  If  the  State  requires  a  public  functionary,  it 
seeks  for,  or  ought  to  seek  for,  an  honest  and  capable  man  ;  it 
does  not  ask  him  whether  he  has  performed  his  religious  duties  ; 
and  in  the  same  way,  if  it  wants  an  architect  it  should  not  take 
upon  itself  the  responsibility  of  educating,  instructing,  and  pro- 
viding for  him  up  to  the  moment  when  it  thinks  it  will  be  ready 
to  employ  him  ;  for  if  in  spite  of  all  this  the  artist  is  an  incom- 
petent man,  it  has  only  itself  to  blame  for  such  incompetency  on 
the  part  of  one  whom  it  has,  so  to  speak,  fashioned  for  itself 

The  duty  of  the  State  consists  in  choosing  capable  men  ;  it  is 
not  its  business  to  train  them.  If  it  should  chance  to  indulge  this 
ambition,  it  establishes  mandar mates, — a  corps  of  official  talent, 
— and  deprives  itself  of  the  services  of  the  highest  intellects, 
which  in  art,  as  in  science,  are  developed  by  a  long  series  of 
individual  efforts,  and  by  the  explormg  of  untried  paths. 

Intellects  of  the  highest  order  are  produced  and  matured 
only  by  hberty.  To  secure  their  position  they  require  neither 
organisation  nor  direction,  for  it  is  they  themselves  that  organise 
and  direct. 

To  place  no  obstacle  in  the  way  of  their  development, — to  give 
them  aU  the  elements  that  constitute  an  education,  while  leaving 
it  to  them  to  choose  what  they  can  best  assimilate, — is  the  duty 
of  the  State.  To  go  further  than  this  is  to  insure  the  predomin- 
ance of  mediocrity.  History  sufficiently  mdicates  the  conditions 
favourable  to  the  development  of  architecture,  as  of  other  branches 
of  art.  But  history  does  not  exhibit  the  development  of  the 
arts  as  at  any  epoch  a  resvdt  of  State  intervention  or  official 
regulation.  It  teaches  us,  on  the  contrary,  that  art  has  never 
reached  an  elevated  position  except  as  the  residt  of  the  most 
absolute  freedom  for  those  who  cultivated  it.  It  shows  us 
moreover  that  the  arts,  and  architecture  in  particular,  have 
culminated  during  periods  of  scientific  development.  Archi- 
tecture is  the  sister  of  Science;  the  former  undergoes  modifications 
and  advances  hand  in  hand  with  the  latter,  and  reaches  its 
point  of  greatest  splendour  when  Science  itself  has  just  passed  a 
glorious  stage  in  its  career.  But  we  must  make  this  distinction 
between  Science  and  Art ;  Science  suffers  no  eclipses.  What 
it  has  acquired  by  means  of  observation,  analysis,  and  logical 
deductions,  is  a  permanent  gain,  and  is,  as  it  were,  incorruptible. 
It  is  not  so  with  that  art  which  is  nearest  of  kin  to  science,  viz. 
architecture.  Architecture,  whose  principles  are  based  more 
directly  than  any  other  art  on  Science,  may  disregard  this  sujiport 
to  such  a  degree  as  to  be  entii'ely  unconscious  of  its  value,  and 
so  decline.  And  it  can  only  recover  itself  by  immersion  in  the 
vivifying  fount  of  science.     Facts  prove  the  correctness  of  this 


CONCLUSION.  437 

remark.  Without  going  further  back  than  the  Hellenic  epoch,  we 
see  that  the  Parthenon,  that  singularly  noble  specimen  of  Doric 
architecture,  was  built  in  accordance  with  arithmetical  law^s  very 
delicately  applied/  Though  I  never  enjoyed  the  privilege  of 
conversing  with  the  architect  of  the  Parthenon,  I  am  sure  that 
he  would  have  been  much  surprised  if  he  heard  it  asserted  that 
architecture  can  dispense  with  scientific  laws.  He  would  have 
replied  by  simply  producing  the  plans  and  elevations  of  his  own 
chef-d'oPAivre,  the  Parthenon,  where  all  the  members  present  a 
mutual  correspondence,  which  is  certainly  not  the  result  of  chance 
or  mere  fancy.  And  it  is  not  less  certain  that  although  arith- 
metic and  geometry  were  not  neglected  by  the  successors  of 
Ictinus,  the  buildings  they  erected  were  inferior  to  his.  Ictinus 
possessed  the  power  of  completely  applying  the  knowledge  he 
had  acquired  to  the  art  he  professed ;  and  it  cannot  be  main- 
tained that  without  the  knowledge  thus  acquired  he  would  have 
been  able  to  jiroduce  the  work  which  we  still  so  much  admire, 
and  which  so  completely  satisfies  the  eye  by  the  perfect  harmony 
of  the  whole. 

Roman  art,  on  the  other  hand,  exliibits  remarkable  gi'andeur 
through  the  exact  application  of  the  knowledge  then  acquired  to 
architecture.  The  knowledge  m  question  was  of  a  practical  order, 
and  due  rather  to  the  observation  of  facts  than  to  the  theoretical 
speculations  in  which  the  Greeks  mdulged  ;  the  genuine  Roman 
erections  are  therefore  strongly  mipressed  with  practical  discern- 
ment, and  the  attentive  observation  of  material  laws  of  stability 
and  cohesion.  It  is  to  the  exactness  of  such  observations  that 
Roman  architecture  owes  its  chief  merits;  the  profound  impression 
it  produces  is  due  to  this,  and  not  to  those  borrowed  decorative 
features  which  often  exhibit  a  very  vulgar  character,  especially 
in  comparison  with  Greek  work.  AVe  have  then  an  independent 
architecture  in  that  of  the  Romans, — one  which  deserves  the 
name  of  art  because  it  also  is  based  on  a  certain  phase  in  the 
development  of  positive  science.  The  knowledge  acquired  was 
not  absolutely  lost,  even  under  the  later  Emperors ;  though  archi- 
tecture allowed  those  principles  to  be  neglected  which  had  raised 
it  to  such  a  pitch  of  grandeur  diu-ing  the  fii'st  century  of  our  era. 
Then  came  the  long  period  of  barbarism  which  followed  the 
extinction  of  the  Empire  of  the  West.  It  is  not  till  the  beginning 
of  the  tweLfth  century  that  we  see  architecture  rising  again 

'  Consult  on  this  point  the  works  of  MM.  Aures  and  C'hoisy,  engineers,  who  have 
ascertained,  with  a  very  high  degree  of  probability,  the  ])urely  geometrical  laws  of  numbers 
and  forms  according  to  which  the  architect  Ictimis  erected  this  incomjiarable  masterpiece. 
It  reflects  somewhat  on  our  profession  that  these  researches  and  discoveries  are  due  to 
engineers,  while  none  of  those  architects  who  have  passed  months  at  Athens  in  measuring 
the  Parthenon  had  dreamed  of  comprehending  the  laws  of  its  construction,  and  only 
brought  away  more  or  less  faithful  pictures  of  it.  This  alone  shows  how  essentially 
defective  is  the  official  instruction  given  to  our  architects. 


438  LECTURES  ON  ARCHITECTURE. 

and  endeavouring  to  relinquish  the  last  modified  reminiscences 
of  Roman  traditions.  The  revival  of  architecture  in  the  West, 
towards  the  middle  of  the  twelfth  century,  exactly  coincides 
with  the  great  intellectual  movement  of  that  j^eriod  in  Literature, 
Science,  and  Philosophy. 

It  was  at  the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth  century  that 
attention  was  turned  towards  physical  and  mathematical  science  ; 
and  architecture  immediately  joined  in  the  movement,  and 
completely  altered  the  traditional  forms  vi^hich  it  had  hitherto 
retained. 

The  same  phenomenon  may  be  observed  in  the  sixteenth 
century  ;  it  was  by  taking  advantage  of  the  scientific  progress  of 
that  brilliant  epoch  that  architecture  modified  the  superannuated 
forms  of  the  period  called  Gotliic. 

But  few  ages  can  compete  with  our  own  in  the  glory  of  its 
scientific  achievements.  Do  our  architects,  like  their  predecessors, 
eagerly  avail  themselves  of  this  source  of  {esthetic  renovation  ? 
No  ;  they  prefer  to  ignore  the  close  connection  of  science  with  art, 
and  to  give  us  public  buildings  of  a  hybrid  style,  more  or  less 
influenced  by  the  debased  architectirre  of  the  last  two  centuries. 
Well,  such  being  the  case, — I  say  again  in  conclusion,- — if  they 
thus  persist  in  rejecting  that  light,  and  in  refusing  that  aid  which 
science  would  gladly  give  them,  the  function  of  the  architect  is 
obsolete ;  while  that  of  the  engineer  is  commencing, — that  of 
men  really  devoted  to  construction,  and  who  wdll  make  purely 
scientific  knowledge  their  starting-point  to  constitute  an  art 
deduced  from  that  knowledge  and  from  the  requirements  of  the 
tunes. 


THE   END. 


INDEX. 


INDEX. 


A. 

Abou  Sembil,  Egyptian  statues  at,  II.  238, 

Academie  des  Beaux-Arts,  II.  140  et  seq. ;  the  natural  exponent  of  the 
system  of  Louis  xiv.,  II.  141. ;  present  tendency  of  its  efforts,  II.  144. ; 
exposure  of  its  working,  144. ;  necessity  of  its  separation  from  the  State, 
II.  147. ;  historical  sketch  of,  II.  148. ;  present  position  of,  in  relation  to 
the  State,  II.  151  et  seq. ;  advantages  of  disconnexion  with  the  State, 
II.  158,  163,  433. ;  damping  influence  of,  on  students,  II.  159. 

^schylus,  "  Persaj "  of,  I.  74. 

Agen,  country-houses  of,  II.  360. 

Agrigentum,  an  example  of  careful  selection  and  improvement  of  natural 
site  by  the  Greeks,  I.  68. ;  basilica  of,  illustrated,  I.  212. ;  temple  of 
Juno  Lucina  at,  illustrated,  I.  254. ;  temple  of  Concord  at,  proportions 
of,  illustrated,  I.  394. 

Agrippa,  buildings  erected  by,  I.  112. ;  Eotunda  of,  see  Pantheon. 

Ajunta,  temple  of,  stone  imitation  of  timber  construction,  illustrated,  I.  40. 

Albano,  villa,  I.  168. 

Alberti,  Leon  Batista  (1404—1472),  I.  239. 

Alhambra,  the,  similarity  to  Koman  construction,  I.  432. 

Amiens,  cathedral  of,  proportions  of,  illustrated,  I.  403. ;  sculpture  in, 
II.  226,  230. 

Amphitheatre,  Eoman,  its  Etruscan  origin,  I.  131. ;  typical  arrangement 
of,  illustrated,  I.  132  et  seq. 

Ancy-le-Franc,  chateau  de,  I.  368. 

Anet,  chCiteau  d',  example  of  tendency  toward  antique  structure  in  17th 
century,  I.  376. 

Angles,  treatment  of,  by  the  Greeks,  illustrated,  I.  291. ;  treatment  of,  by 
secular  Gothic  school,  illustrated,  I.  294. 

Antoninus  Pius,  temple  of  (now  the  custom-house  at  Rome),  example  of 
want  of  harmony  between  the  structure  and  the  requirements,  I.  373. 

Apollodorus  of  Damascus  (architect),  basilica  of,  1. 154. ;  example  of  magni- 
ficence of  size  and  materials,  I.  154. 

Apophyge,  abandonment  of,  in  12th  century,  illustrated,  I.  313. 

VOL.  II.  2  F  ■ 


442  INDEX. 

Appius  Claudius,  aqueduct  of,  I.  120. 

Arab  architecture,  resemblaace  of  houses  to  those  of  ancient  Rome,  I.  168.; 
introduction  of  Greek  art  through  the  Nestorians,  I.  193,  227.  ; 
geometry  in,  I.  227. ;  a  Greek  modification  of  Persian  art,  I.  428.  See 
also  Persian  Architecture. 

Arch,  Etruscan  origin  of  the  Roman,  I.  72. ;  extradossed  and  not  extra- 
dossed,  illustrated,  I.  186. ;  under  entablature  in  debased  Roman  art, 
illustrated,  I.  212. ;  early  Byzantine  example  of,  built  directly  on 
columns,  illustrated,  I.  212. ;  at  Solomon's  temple,  date  discussed,  T. 
218. ;  under  liutels,  I.  93. ;  over  lintels,  I.  226.  ;  iron  and  masonry, 
luetiiod  of  counter-thrust,  illustrated,  II.  GO,  76.  Sec  also  Ogive, 
Vaulting. 

Arches,  triumphal  Roman,  proportions  of,  illustrated,  1,  397  et  seq, ; 
sculpture  in,  II.  219. 

Archajology,  the  province  of,  in  architecture,  I.  139,  l.')8,  486. 

Architect  (modern),  position  of,  toward  his   client,  II.  248,  254,  267.  ; 

relations  toward  contractors,  II.  412. ;  necessary  practical  qualifications 

of,  II.  428. 
Areopagus  of  Athens,  ancient  mud  roof  of,  I.  86. 
Aries,  Arena  of,  example  of  typical  Roman  amphitheatre,  I.  130.  ;  example 

of  Roman  concentric  arcb,  II.  8. 

Art,  defined,  I.  11  et  seq.;  stronger  effect  on  men  in  primitive  form, 
I.  12.  ;  independent  of  degree  of  civilisation,  I.  13  et  seq.;  independent 
of  quality  of  execution,  1. 14.;  independent  of  political  or  scientific  state  of 
a  nation,  1. 14.;  contrasted  with  utilitarian  improvement,  1. 15.;  emotions 
excited  by,  analysed,  I.  18. ;  imagination  is  its  source  and  imitation  of 
nature  its  means  of  expression,  I.  25. ;  develops  itself  when  riveted  to 
manners  and  customs  of  a  nation,  and  declines  when  severed  from  them, 
I.  30. ;  creative  power  in,  exhibited  by  all  the  early  civilisations,  I.  30. ; 
gesture  in,  an  index  of  grade  of  civilisation,  I.  31. ;  style  the  substitute 
for  gesture  in  high  state  of  civilisations,  I.  32. ;  with  Greeks  is  sovereign, 
I.  76. ;  with  Romans  subservient  to  interest  of  State,  I.  76. ;  in  middle 
ages  is  isolated  from  surrounding  circumstances,  I.  76. ;  in  middle  ages  the 
only  refuge  of  liberty  advancing  because  autonomous,  I.  78.;  sentiment  in, 
art,  I.  82.;  arcliaology  and  art,  I.  139,  158,  486. ;  danger  of  sophistry 
in  art,  I.  143. ;  real  basis  of  opinion  in  art  must  be  something  stronger 
than  amateur  criticism,  I.  144. ;  statics  in,  I.  144. ;  invariable  principles 
of,  rather  than  the  forms,  should  be  taught,  1. 146.  ;  influence  of  Christi- 
anity on  art,  I.  171. ;  absence  of  invention  in  art,  I.  172  ;  imagination 
in  art,  I.  173. ;  definition  of  style  in  art,  I.  177  et  seq. ;  definition  of 
mannerism,  I.  188.  ;  influence  of  geometry  on,  I.  227.  ;  influence  of 
Reformation  on,  I.  241.  ;  hybrid  nature  of  modern  art,  I.  244  ;  alliance 
between  sculpture,  painting,  and  architecture  in  ancient  times,  I.  250.  ; 
cause  of  the  disruption  between  them,  I.  250.;  oriental  respect  for  art, 
I.  251. ;  sincerity  essential  to  style  in  art,  I.  282,  304. ;  Aryan  influence 


INDEX.  443 

on,   I.  341. ;  the  State  and  art  in  modern  times,   II.  140  et  seq.,  394 

et  seq.,  433. 
Arts,  the  seven  liberal,  of  the  middle  ages,  I.  11. 
Aryans,  influence  of  the,  on  arts  of  different  races,    I.    341.;    traces   of 

timber  construction  found  wherever  they  spread,  II.  4. 
Asia  Minor,  timber  construction  imitated  in  rock  hewn-tombs,  illustrated, 

1.42. 
Assyrian  architecture,  ornamentation,  II.  171,  181. ;   materials,  II.  178. ; 

palace  of  Khorsabad,  illustrated,  II.  180.     See  also  Nineveh. 
Athens,  propylsea  of,    I.  138. ;    temple   of  Victory  at,    mouldings  from, 

illustrated,  I.  440. 
Aures,   M.,  Vitruviau  theory  of  proportion,  I.  392. ;   researches  on  the 

Parthenon,  II.  437. 
Autun,  temple  of  Janus  at,  example  of  thin  Eoman  walls,  with  light  roof, 

II.  9. 
Auvergne,  character  of  its  Romanesque,  I.  275. 
Avenne,  Prisse  d',  illustrations  of  Egyptian  architecture,  II.  174. 
Aymard,  Abbot  of  Cluny,  I.  256. 
Azay-le-Pddeau,  chateau  d',  example  of  equilibration,  I.  478. 

B. 

Baalbec,  architectural  remains,  anterior  to  the  Romans,  I.  216. 

Bacon,  Roger,  his  plea  for  emancipation  from  the  schools,  I.  457. 

Barbarism  in  art,  I.  10. 

Barolli,  temple  of,  example  of  timber  construction  in  stone,  I.  43. 

Barrack,  Pioman,  plan  of,  illustrated,  I.  118. 

Basilica,  Eoman,  proportions  described  by  Vitruvius,  I.  149. ;  description 

of  basilica  of  Fano,  illustratal,  I.  150  et  seq.  ;  the  model  of  medieval 

buildings,    I.  208. ;    difference   between   the   Greek   and   the  Roman, 

I.  154. 
Bavaria,  King  Louis  of,  II.  385. 

Beaudoin  ii.,  Bishop,  built  the  cathedral  of  Noyon,  circa  1150,  I.  262. 
Beauvais,  church  of  St.  Etienne  at,  I.  231. 
Beetle,  use  of,  in  foimdations,  II.  22. 
Bernard,  St.,  Abbot  of  Clairvaulx  (1091 — 1153),  Cistercian  reform  under, 

I.  236.  ;  inveighs  against  Clunisian  license,  I.  261. 
Bernini,  John  Lawrence  (1598 — 1680),  I.  13,  110. ;    his  scheme  for  the 

Louvre,  I.  368. 
Berty,  A.,  notice  on  the  chateau  de  Boidogne,  I.  351. 
Blinds,  (persiennes),  for  modern  dwellings,  II.  304,  310. 
Blois,  chateau  de,  example  of  equilibration  of  arrangement,  I.  478. 
Blondel,  Frantjois  (1617—1686),  I.  243. 


444  INDEX. 

Blouet,  A.,  his  drawings  of  the  thermae  of  Caracalla,  1. 122, 128. 

Book-keeping,   in  building-yard,  II.  416  et  seq. ;    system    of   accounts, 
illustrated,  II.  418. 

Bordeaux,  church  of  St.  Seurin  at,  II.  230. 

Boulogne,  chateau  de  (or  Madrid),  described,  iUuntraiccl,  I.  350. 

Bourges,  bouse  of  Jacques  Cceur  at ;  example  of  equilibration  in  arrange- 
ment, I.  478.  ;  cathedral  of,  II.  230. 

Bramante  d'Urbino  (1444—1514),  I.  239. 

Brick,  use  of,  in  modern  buildings,  II.  39. 

Bronze,  employed  in  Eoman  ceilings,  I.  154. ;  in  Assyrian  architecture, 
II.  181. 

Brosse,  Jacques  de  {circa  1620),  I.  243. 

Brunelleschi,  Filippo  (1377^1444),  I.  239. 

Building-yards,  organisation  of,  II.  101  et  seq. ;  book-keeping  and 
superintendence  in,  illustrated,  II.  416  et  seq. 

BuUant,  Jean  (1520 — 1578),  architect  of  Tuileries  after  Delorme's  death, 
I.  361. 

Burgundy,  Romanesque  architecture  of,  I.  275. 

Buttress,  use  of  the  columns  as  a  buttress,  by  the  Romans,  illustrated, 
I.  210.;  in  Romanesque,  illustrated,  I.  228. ;  in  wall-staying,  illustrated, 

I.  296. ;  the  pilaster  used  as,  in  renaissance,  I.  372. 

Byzantine  architecture,  •  origin  of,  a  Greek  Christian  renaissance,  I.  191.; 
transmission  of  Byzantine  art  by  heretics  and  Mahometans  to  Africa, 
Italy,  and  the  West,  I.  193  et  seq. ;  influence  on  Gaul  and  the  West, 
from  the  time  of  Charlemagne,  I.  201. ;  sources  whence  derived, 
Etruscan,  Phoenician,  Juda^an,  I.  214  et  seq.  ;  similarity  of  ornament  to 
that  of  Judajan  buildings,  I.  223. ;  possible  derivation  from  ancient  Judrean 
art,  I.  225  ;  principles  of  Byzantine  art,  I.  226  et  seq.  ;  comparison  of 
forms  with  Roman,  illvMrated,  I.  421. ;  small  Syrian  dwelling,  illustrated, 

II.  185 ;  ornamentation  in,  II.  186. 


C. 

Caen,  churches  of  La  Trinite  and  St.   I'ltiennc,   examples   of  Norman 

architecture,  I.  279. 
Cairo,  mosque  of  Amrou  at,  illustrated,  I.  427. 
Camp,  Roman,  plan  of,  ilhisfvated,  I.  119. 

Canaruc,  pagoda  of,  example  of  timber  construction  in  stone,  I.  43. 
Capitals,  origins  of,  vegetable  and  stone  forms,  11.  176. 
Caracalla,  thermae  of,  illustrated,  I.  120,  122  et  seq. ;  estimate  of  cost  of, 

I.  376. ;  dimensions  of  great  circular  hall,  II.  86. 
Carnac,  temple  of  Khons  at,  proportions  of,  illustrated,  I.  395. 
Caryatides,  pose  of,  illustrated,  I.  291  et  seq. 


INDEX.  445 

Cellular  construction  of  the  Romans,  1.^134. 

Central  America,  stone  imitation  of  timber  construction,  illuntrated,  I.  42. 

Centralisation,  evil  effects  on  French  architecture,  I.  383. 

Chalets,  Alpine,  II.  346. 

Cliambord,  chateau  de,  described,  il/u.strated,  I.  355. 

ChamUlart,  Mich,  de  (1651—1721),  I.  243. 

Champagne,  character  of  its  Romanesque,  I.  275. 

Chantilly,  chateau  de,  illmtmted,  I.  369. 

Charite-sur-Loire,  I.  257. 

Charlemagne,  the  first  to  revive  the  arts  in  tlie  West,  1.  199. 

Charleval,  chateau  de,  illastrated,  I.  371. 

Chartres,  cathedral  of,  mouldings  from,  illmtrated,  I.  438. ;  sculpture  at, 
II.  230. 

Chenonceaux,  chateau  de,  I.  478. 

China,  typical  timber  construction,  illustrated,  I.  39. 

Choisy,  M.,  researches  on  the  Parthenon,  II.  437. 

Christianity,  its  influence  on  art,  I.  171  et  seq. ;  the  Christian  idea  as 
applied  to  the  arts  in  modern  times,  I.  205. 

Chunjuju,  I.  42.    See  Central  America. 

Cicero,  remarks  on  Roman  political  religion,  I.  96.;  Tusculau  house  of, 
I.  156. 

Citeaux,  reform  of,  I.  236. ;  Cistercian  rivalry  with  Clunisians,  I.  260. 

Civilisation,  art  independent  of,  I.  13  et  seq. ;  sympathetic  and  pulitical, 
defined,  I.  203. 

Clagny,  chateau  de,  example  of  building  spoiled  by  symmetry,  I.  464. 

Clerk  of  works,  duties  of,  II.  426. 

Climate,  influence  of,  on  design,  II.  341.  ;  on  country  houses,  II.  367. 

Cluny,  h6tel  de,  at  Paris,  I.  478. ;  II.  262. 

Cluny,  reform  of,  I.  235. ;  supreme  influence  of,  in  10th  and  11th  cen- 
turies,  I.  256.;    the   Cluuisian   spirit   and   the   Clunisiau   architecture, 

I.  258.;  rise  of  luxury,  I.  258.;  rivalry  of  Cistercians,  260. 

Colbert,  J.  Baptiste  (1619 — 1683),  his  notions  of  the  requirements  for  the 
Louvre,    I.    367.  ;    founds    French    Academy   of  Architecture,   1671, 

II.  148. 

Coliseum,  I.  91,  130. ;  I.  132  el  seq.  ;  I.  211. 

Colossal  order,  employment  in  French  renaissance,  I.  372. 

Colour,  effect  of,  on  proportion,  illustrated,  I.  247.;  universal  in  ancient 

architectures,  discontinued  in  Gothic,  I.  249. ;  in  As.syrian  architecture, 

II.  181. ;  in  Greek  architecture,  I.  56. ;  II.  176,  187. 
Columns,  Greek  and  Roman  treatment  of,  I.  102.  ;    used  1/y    the  Romans 

as  buttresses,  illustrated,  I.  128.  ;  in  Romanesque,  illudralcd,  I.  228. ; 

use   of,    in   Byzantine   architecture,   I.   226.;    supenmiosed,    I.   229.; 

clustered  Romanesque,  illustreded,  I.  232. 


446  INDEX. 

Common   sense   in   architecture,  a  plea  for,  II.  109  el   seq. ;    want   of, 

I.  182. 

Communal  spirit,  rise  of,  iu  the  West  about  1160,  I.  263. 

Competition  in  architectural  designs,  inducements  to  unscrupulousness  in 
estimating,  II.  98. ;  II.  399  et  seq. ;  difficulty  of  obtaining  an  impartial 
jury,  II.  400. ;  competitors  should  be  called  to  explain   their   designs, 

II.  407. 

Concrete,  development  of  concrete  vaulting  by  Romans,  I.  454. ;  11.  8,  18.  ; 

use  of,  in  foimdations,  illufilrated,  II.  17. 
Conge,  the  use  and  the  misuse  of,  illustrated,  I.  312. 
Constantino,  Emperor  (272 — 337),  Bernini's  statue  of,  in  St.  Peter's,  1. 13. ; 

proclamation  of  religious  liberty  by,  a.d.  313,  1. 110. 

therma3  of,  I.  120. 

basilica  of,  described,  illustrated,  I.  264.  297. ;  proportions  of,  I.  401. 

Construction,  three  general  principles,  stability,  agglomeration,  eqitilibnum, 

II.  3. 
Contracts,  present  state  of,  II.  409.  ;  needy  contractors,  II.  412. ;  dishonest 

contractors,  II.  413. ;  incompetent  contractors,  II.  415.  ;  requirements 

for  satisfactory  contractors,  II.  416.  ;  system  of  accounts,  II.  416. 
Corbelling,  example  of  mediasval  building  on,  illustrated,  II.  55. ;  in  modern 

street  houses,  II.  314. 
Corbie,  Pierre  de,  I.  314. 

Corinth,  temple  of,  proportions  of,  illustrated,  I.  394. 
Corinthian  order,  diflerence  of,  its  use  by  Romans  and  Greeks,  I.  102.  ; 

use  of,  by  Greeks  in  small  buildings,  II.  183. 
Cornices,  illustrated,  I.  310  et  seq. 
Coste,  M.,  illustrations  of  Persian  mosque  by,  II.  196. 
Country  houses.     Sec  Domestic  Architecture. 
Courtois,  Pierre  of  Limoges,  employed  to  complete  faience  at  Boulogne, 

I.  351. 

Crusades,  small  influence  of  the,  on  medic-eval  architecture,  I.  207. 
Ciystals,   configurations  of,    give    best    forms    for    combined    vaulting, 

II.  93. 

Culverts,  use  of,  in  foundations,  illustrated,  II.  21. 

Cuttack,    India,     stone    imitation    of   timber    construction,    illustrated, 

I.  39,  40. 
Cyclopean  masonry,  illustrated,  II.  6. 
Cyrus  (Cicero's  architect),  I.  156. 

D. 

Damp,  precautions  against,  in  foundations,  illustrated,  II.  23. 
Davaux,  hotel,  at  Paris,  example  of  truthful  rendering  of  the  manners  of 
the  times  (17th  century),  II.  260. 


INDEX.  \\1 

Delorme,  Philibert  (1518 — 1577),  his  remarks  on  French  architectural 
resources,  I.  339. ;  common-sense  advice  on  designing,  I.  346. ;  continues 
chateau  de  Boulogne,  I.  357. ;  bis  design  of  the  Tuileries,  ilhintmkcl, 
I.  358. ;  his  remarks  on  necessities  in  architecture,  I.  3G2. ;  his  attention 
to  structure,  II.  13. ;  his  protests  against  dilettante  dogmas,  II.  34. ;  his 
original  ideas,  II.  87. 

De  Marot,  author  of  "  Arcliitecture  Frangaise  "  (circa  1727),  II.  252,  264. 

Democracy,  influence  of,  on  Greek  Art,  I.  66 ;  on  French  domestic  architec- 
ture, II.  265. 

Deols,  church  of,  mouldings  from,  ilht.strafed,  I.  442. 

Descartes,  his  four  principles,  applied  to  the  study  of  ai'chitecture,  I.  449 
et  seq. 

Design,  principles  oi,   in    architecture,   "absolute  respect  for   the   true," 

I.  319  ef  seq.,  330,  335  et  passim  ;  process  of,  I.  190. 
Dion  Cassius  (3d  cent),  date  of  Pantheon  given  by,  T.  112. 

Dome,   Oriental  method  of  building,   II.  84. ;  proposed  method  of  con- 
struction in  modern  buildings,  illmtrated,  II.  84. 
Domestic  Architecture,  II.  246  ef  sec].;  classification  of  modern  dwellings, 

II.  250.;  requirements  of  mansions,  II.  251.;  English  mansions,  II. 
255,  272. ;  Venetian  palace,  iUmtratcd,  II.  255. ;  Roman  (15th  century) 
palace,  II.  258. ;  Florentine  palaces,  II.  259.  ;  French  (17th  century) 
mansions,  illustrated,  II.  260.;  influence  of  democratic  customs  on,  II. 
265. ;  symmetry  and  common  sense,  II.  267. ;  requirements  of  modern 
mansion,  II.  269. ;  difference  between  French  and  English,  II.  272. ;  orien- 
tation, II.  274. ;  programme  of  a  modern  mansion,  illustrated,  11.  275.; 
estimate  of  cost  of  a  typical  mansion,  II.  283. ;  pavilions,  II.  285.;  typical 
smaller  French  town  house,  illustrated,  II.  287. ;  porticoes,  II. 
287. ;  necessity  for  improvement  in  details,  II.  290.  ;  heating  arrange- 
ments, II.  291. ;  ventilation,  II.  291. ;  origin  of  small  Parisian  man- 
sions, II.  293. ;  influence  of  modern  events  on,  II.  294. ;  Parisian 
dwellings  of  the  future,  II.  295,  '297. ;  houses  in  flats,  II.  299,  312. ; 
typical  moderate  city  house  of  combined  iron  and  masonry,  illus- 
trated, II.  303  et  .seq. ;  blinds,  (persiennes),  II.  304. ;  windows,  II. 
304. ;  stairs,  II.  304. ;  corbelled  projections  in  street  buildings,  II.  314. ; 
iron  flooring,  II.  316. ;  partitions,  II.  316. ;  iron  framed  walls,  illustrated, 
II.  319. ;  requirements  of  shops,  11.  320. ;  chimneys,  flues  and^  fire- 
places, II.  324.  ;  terra  cotta,  II.  327,  329. ;  advantages  of  combined 
iron  structure,  in  rapidity  of  erection,  II.  330. ;  iron  roofing,  11.  334. ; 
iron  lathing,  II.  335. 

Country-houses,  II.  345  ct  .seq. ;  elementary  principles,  i/lusirated,  II. 

346.  ;  English  and  French  methods,  II.  348. ;  requirements  of,  II.  349. ; 
roofing,  II.  350.  ;  windows,  II.  351. ;  heating  arrangements,  II.  352.  ; 
flooring,  illustrated,  II.  353.;  wainscotting,  II.  355.;  chimneys,  II. 
356. ;  typical  moderate  country-house  described,  illustrated,  II.  357.  ; 
orientation,  II.  361.  ;  typical  southern  French  rural  dwellings  described, 
iUuMrafed,  II.  362. ;  typical  English  country-house,  illustrated,  II.  370. 


448  INDEX. 

Domestic  dwellings,  of  the  Eoraans,  I.  160  ct  seq. 

Douaklson,  T.  L.,  description  of  ruins  at  Agrigentum,  I.  254. 

Doric  order,  successive  forms  of  capital,  iUus/ratcd,  I.  85. ;  cliaiigc  of,  by 
the  Eomans,  I.  103. ;  Vitruvius's  remarks  on,  I.  104.  j  Doric  and  Ionic 
schools  contrasted,  I.  87,  104,  307,  407. 

Dowels  and  Dovetails,  use  of,  illustrated,  II.  28. 

Drainage,  effect  on  foundations,  II.  18. 

Duo,  M.,  investigations  on  the  Coliseum,  I.  135. 

Du  Cerceau,  Jacques  Audrouet  (1670 — 1730),  description  of  la  Miiette,  I. 
355. ;  plan  of  Tuileries,  I.  358. ;  Livre  d'Architecturc,  I.  363. ;  descrip- 
tion of  Charleval,  I.  371. 

Dlirer,  Albert  (1471—1528),  II.  87. 


E. 

Eclecticism,  when  commendable,  I.  188. ;  when  barbarous,  I.  484. 

Ecole  de  Eome,  seminary  of  the  academie,  II.  142. ;  repressing  influence 

on  the  student,  II.  158. 
Economy  in  Koman  construction,  I.  108  ;  II.  9. ;  in  modern  architecture, 

openings  for,  II.  52,  81. ;  true  and  false,  II.  96  et  seq. 
Ecouen,  chateau  d',  I.  478. ;  II.  13. 
Edinburgh,  a  Parthenon  an  absurdity  in,  I.  56. 
Egina,  temjile  of,  proportions  of,  illustrated,  I.  394. 
Egyptian    arcliitecture,    vegetable    forms    in,    I.  85.  ;    II.    170. ;    general 

arrangements  of,  I.  328. ;  the  column,  illustrated,  II.  175.  ;  sculpture  in, 

II.  210,  224. 
Elasticity,  a  condition  of  Mediaeval  structure,  but  not  of  Roman,  II.  29. 
Eleusis,  Doric  capital  from,  illustrated,  I,  85.  ;  propyloja  of,  likeness  to  a 

temple,    I.    138. ;    examples  of  superimposed   columns  at,    illustrated, 

I.  230. ;  mouldings  i'rom,  illustrated,  I.  440. 
Emotions  excited  by  art,  analysed,  I.  18. 
Empire,  the  second,  French  architecture  in,  II.  392. 
Engineers,  domain  of,  in  architecture,  II.  72. 

England,  colonising  powers  of,  compared  with  Home,  I.  78. ;  Norman 
architecture  in,  I.  279.  ;  London  mansions,  II.  255,  343.  ;  requirements 
of,  different  from  French,  II.  272. ;  country-houses,  II.  348.  ;  Wark- 
worth  Castle,  illustrated,  II.  367  et  seq. ;  failure  of  English  architects 
with  Frencli  buildings,  II.  367.;  late  ajsthetic  development  of  art  in, 

II.  381. ;    architectural   education   in,   II.    383. ;    Institute   of  British 
Architects,  II.  384. 

Ephcsus,  theatre  at,  I.  131. 

Equilibration,  conti'astud  with  symmetry,  illustrated.  I.  475. 


INDEX.  449 

Erechtheiiim,  an  illustration  of  subordiuation  of  symmetry  to  reasonable 

fitness,  I.  57.  ;  principles  of  construction  analysed,  I.  58  el  seq. ;  base 

mouldings,  illustrated,  I.  307. 
Estimate  of  cost  of  the  thermre  of  Caracalla,  I.  376. ;  of  large  iron  and 

masonry  building,  II.  95.  ;  of  typical  modern   mansions,  II.   283.  ;   of 

moderate  town  house,  II.  302. 
Etruscan  art,  the  arch,  I.  72. ;  Roman  ampiiitheatrc  borrowed  from,  I.  131. ; 

affinity  with  Phoenician  and  Judean,  I.  214  ;  with  Carthaginian,  I.  218. 
Euripides,  quotation  from,  about  triglyphs,  I.  53. 

F. 

Falsehood,  baseness  of,  in  architecture,  I.  480.  ;  II.  116. 

Fano,  basilica  at,  illustrated,  I.  148  et  seq. 

Fan-vaulting,  II.  129. ;  applied  to  iron  net-work,  illustrated,  II.  132. 

Farnese  Palace,  I.  168,  374. 

Fashion  in  art,  I.  11,  62. 

Fergusson,  James,  illustrations  of  Cuttack  from  "Handbook  of  Architecture" 

(1855),  I.  39. 
Ferrals,  chateau  de,  illustrated,  II.  365. 
Ferte-Milon,  chateau  de,  illustrated,  II.  235. 
Feudalism,  French  art  unaffected  by,  I.  245. 
Fireplaces,  in  iron  framed  structure,  details,  illustrated,  II,  324. 
Fitness  in  architecture,  principle  of,  I.  482. 
Flooring,  iron,  origin  of,  in  French  domestic  buildings,  II.  332. ;  of  thin 

deal  and  sheet-iron,  illiLstrated,  II.  353. 
Florence,  Palazzo  Vecchio,  I.  374. 

li'ontainebleau,  criticism  on  interior  decoration  of,  I.  379. 
Foot,  length  of  the  Eoman,  11|  inches,  I.  153. 
Forests,  disappearance  of,  result  on  modern  construction,  II.  332. 
Forethought,  necessity  of,  in  design,  II.  48. 
Foundations,  Greek,  Roman,  Media3val,  II.  16,  17. ;  piles,  II.  17.  ;  cU'ect 

of  drainage  on,  II.  18.  ;  use  of  culverts,  illastrated,  II.  21.  ;  llic  beetle, 

II.  22.  ;  protection  from  damp,  iUu.vfrated,  II.  23. 
Freestone,  proper  use  of,  in  building,  illustrated,  II.  24  ct  seq. 
Frumin,  Rene  (1673 — 1744),  his  criticisms  on  Paris  churches,  II.  34. 
Fresnel,  M.,  Mesopotamian  expedition  of  (1853),  11.  179. 

Q. 
Gadier,  Pierre  {circa  1600),  master-mason,  I.  350. 
Garde  Meuble,  at  Paris,  successful  application  of  the  orders  in,  II.  191. 
Gardens,  in  old  Paris,  II.  261. 
Gargoyles,  II.  47. 


450  INDEX. 

Geneva,  sheltered  fronts  of  old  houses,  illustrated,  II.  343. 

Geometry,  influence  of,  on  art,  I.  227. ;  the  starting-point  of  Architecture, 
I.  408. ;  in  Mediaaval  and  Aiab  architecture,  I.  433. ;  in  Greek,  II.  437. 

German  invasion,  effects  of,  on  France,  II.  247. 

Germany,  present  state  of  architecture  in,  II.  384. 

Gesture,  in  art,  an  index  of  grade  of  civilisation,  I.  31. 

Giraud,  Ch.,  remarks  on  the  Academic  (1864),  II.  147,  150. 

Gobineau,  A.  de,  "  Essai  sur  I'inegalite  des  races  humaines  "  (1855),  1.  340. 

Gothic  architecture.     See  Mediteval  Architecture. 

Gratian,  Franc;ois  (IGth  century),  master  builder,  I.  351. 

Greek  architecture,  the  theory  of,  as  a  development  of  timber  construction 
combated,  I.  35  ct  scq.,  48,  51  et  seq. ;  programme  of  the  Greek  temple, 
I.  45.;  description  of  process  in  building  a  temple,  I.  45  d  scq. ; 
materials,  45. ;  transport,  46. ;  the  lewis,  47. ;  chary  use  of  scaffolding, 
49. ;  artistical  finish  to  suit  the  light,  50. ;  triglyphs,  52.  ;  symmetry  in, 
I.  54.;  I.  88.  ;  the  sun,  the  generating  principle  of  forms  in,  I.  55. ; 
colour  in,  I.  56. ;  barbarism,  to  reproduce  a  Greek  temple  in  London  or 
Paris,  but  the  same  principle  should  guide  the  architect,  I.  67. ;  subor- 
dination of  symmetry  to  reasonable  fitness,  illaslratal  by  the  Erectheium, 
I.  57  ct  srq. ;  clearness  in  construction,  an  essential  quality,  I.  61.; 
sculpture,  only  an  embroidery,  I.  61. ;  contrasted  with  Koman,  I.  63 
et  srq.;  I.  71  d  scq.;  I.  197,  271,  329,  444.;  II.  178  d  passim; 
autonomy,  the  essential  condition  of  development  of,  I  64. ;  effect 
of  patriotism  on,  I.  65. ;  influence  of  democracy  on,  I.  66. ;  careful 
selection  and   improvement  of  sites,  I.   68. ;    little  variety  in   design, 

I.  70. ;  the  composition  of  the  order,  I.  80. ;  influence  of  the  human 
form  on  Greek  proportions,  I.  84. ;  freedom  and  variety,  in  proportions 
of  the  order,  I.  87. ;  Doric  and  Ionic  orders  compared,  I.  87.  ;  spirit  of 
Greek  architecture,  contrasted  with  modern  imitation,  I.  88.  ;  colour 
in,  illustrated,  I.  249. ;  mouldings,  illustrated,  I.  307. ;  cornice,  ilhis- 
ircdrd,  I.  310. ;  the  iilca  of  the  temple,  illus/rotcd^  II.  193. ;  sculpture, 

II.  213,  218,  225.;  prominence  given  to  horizontal  lines  in  moulding, 
II.  176.  ;  stability  secured  by  superposition,  II.  8. ;  essentially  artistic 
nattn-e  of  the  Atlienian,  I.  14,  ct  passim. 

Gregory  the  Great  (544—604),  remarks  on  the  Lombards,  I.  195. 
Guilhermy,  M.  de,  description  of  Paris  cathedral  by,  T.  302. 
Guillaume,  Friar  (961—1031),  account  of  Abbot   Suger's    workmen    on 
St.  Denis,  I.  261. 

Gutters,  necessity  of  giving  air-space  under,  illmtrated,  II.  26.  ;  Greek, 
Eoman,  Mediaeval  systems,  II.  47. ;  iron  gutters  in  modein  buildings, 
n.  126. 

H. 

Hadrian,  villa  of,  1.  412. 

Heating  arrangements  in  modern  dwellings,  II.  291,  3.52. 


INDEX.  451 

Heliogabalus,  Emperor  {circa  a.d.  22U),  1.  135. 

Henri  iv.,  restoration  of  order  in  politics  and  art  under,  I.  241. 

Henszlmann,  Dr.,  theory  of  proportion  in  architecture,  I.  392. 

Hermogenes,  his  objection  to  Doric  order,  I.  105. 

Herod  the  Great,  works  of,  at  Jerusalem,  I.  216.  ;  I.  221  et  aaj 

Hildebrand  (Pope  Gregory  vii.,  circa  1080),  I.  257. 

Hugues,  Abbot  of  Cluny  (1024—1109),  I.  256,  257. 

Hurry,  evil  effects  of,  in  modern  art,  I.  255. 


IcTiNUS  {circa  B.C.  450),  I.  314. ;  II.  213,  437. 

Idea,  the  Christian,  as  applied  to  art  in  modern  times,  I.  205.;  in  art 
illustrated,  from  Greek,  Persian,  and  Venetian  examples,  II.  193.  ;  in 
sculpture,  II.  215. 

Ile-de-Frauce,  character  of  its  Romanesque,  I.  275. 

Iliad,  description  of  Helen,  the  acme  of  sublimity  of  art,  I.  27. 

Imagination,  the  source  of  art,  I.  25,  173. 

Impecuniosity,  influence  of,  on  forms,  in  French  Renaissance,  I.  377. 

India,  stone  imitation  of  timber  construction,  illustrated  from  Cuttack, 
1.  39,  40. ;  lattice-work  building,  illustrated,  I.  43. 

Ingres,  M.,  letter  of,  on  Academie  des  Beaux  Arts,  II.  147. 

Instruction  in  architecture,  faults  in  present  State  system,  I.  320  et  seq. 

Interiors,  system  of  proportion  and  decoration,  I.  412  et  seq. 

Invention,  its  absence  in  architectural  art,  I.  172. 

Iron,  advantage  of,  in  modern  architecture,  1 1.  42  et  seq. ;  precautions  to 
prevent  decay,  II.  43. ;  vaulting  combined  with,  11.  44  et  seq.;  use  in 
Italian  Mediaeval  buildings,  II.  G6. ;  proper  function  of,  a  tie,  II.  66.  ; 
false  construction  in,  II.  115.  ;  network,  II.  131. ;  modern  house-fittings 
with  details,  illustrated,  II.  301  et  seq. ;  sheet  iron  and  thin  deal  floor- 
ing, illustrated,  II.  353.     See  also  Iron  and  masonry  combined. 

Iron  and  masonry  combined,  vaulting,  illustrated,  II.  37,  60,  68,  78.  ; 
gallery,  illustrated,  II.  57.  ;  thrust,  novel  method  of  resisting,  by  cast 
iron  struts,  illustrated,  II.  60.  ;  building  on  oblique  iron  columns, 
illustrated,  II.  63.  ;  counter-thrust  of  arch,  illustrated,  II.  76.  ; 
examples  of  large  hall  with  details,  illustrated,  II.  78  et  seq. ;  vaulting 
of  large  spaces,  illustrated,  II.  99.  ;  estimate  of  cost  of  large  combined 
structure,  II.  95. ;  hypothetical  example  of  town  hall,  illustrated,  II. 
118. ;  danger  through  unequal  settlement,  II.  129. ;  typical  moderate 
city  house,  with  estimate  and  details,  illustrated,  II.  301  et  seq. 

Italy,  state  of  architecture,  between  13th  and  15th  centuries,  I.  238  rf  seq.; 
failure  to  create  a  Mediteval  art,  I.  239.  ;  present  state  of  architecture 
in,  II.  387. 


452  INDEX. 

J. 

Jerusalem,  arcbitectuial  remains  at,  iUndratcd,  I.  214  ct  seq.  ;  analogy 
between  sculpture  of  Golden  Gate  and  Vezelay  chapter-house,  I.  443. 

Joists,  necessity  of  free  current  of  air  around,  II.  356. 

Jomard,  M.  (1776 — 1862),  demonstration  of  proportion  of  Great  Pyramid, 
I.  399. 

Josephus,  Flavius,  quotations  from,  I.  214,  216,  221. 

Judjtan  architecture,  affinity  witJi  Phoenician  and  Etruscan  art,  I.  214. ; 
remains  of  Solomon's  temple,  illustrated,  I.  21.5. ;  tombs  of  the  kings, 
■illustrated,  I.  219. ;  works  of  Herod  the  Great,  I.  221. ;  probable  inlluence 
on  Byzantine  architecture,  I.  224. 

Julia  Aquiliana,  basilica  of,  I.  148. 

Jumieges,  church  of,  I.  279. 

Justinian,  Emperor,  erection  of  St.  Sophia  by,  I.  193. 

K. 

K.HOUSABAD,  I'alace  ot,  illustrated,  II.  180. 

L. 

Laborde,  Comte  de  (1773—1842),  attributes   designs  of  the  chateau  do 

Boulogne  to  Delia  llobbia,  I.  350. 
Lachambre,  M.,  iron  lathing  of,  II.  335. 
Lambert,  Hotel,  I.  250,  380. 
Langres,  cathedral  of,  I.  260. 

Languedoc,  country  houses  of,  illustrated,  II.  360,  364. 
Lantern,  of  Warkworth  Castle,  illustrated,  II.  375. 
Laon,  cathedral  of,  I.  303. 

Lassus,  J.  B.  A.,  article  Be  Fart  et  de  I! urcMolotjic,  I.  467. 
Lebrun,  Charles  (1619—1690),  L  147,  383  ;  IL  141,  148. 
Le  Mercier,  Jacques  (1585—1654),  I.  243. 

Le  Muet,  Pierre  (eivca  1681),  book  on  domestic  architecture,  II.  260. 
Le  Notre,  Andre  (1613—1700),  I.  464. 
Leo    the    Isaurian,   Emperor   of  Byzantium  (680 — 741),   effects   of    his 

persecution  in  spreading  art,  I.  194. 
Le  Pautre  Anton  (1614—1691),  L  380. 

Levaux,  Louis  (16th  century),  architect  of  the  Hotel  dc  Lionne,  II.  252. 
Lewis,  its  use  by  the  Greeks,  illustrated,  I.  47. 
Liger,  M.,  work  on  iron  partitions  (1867),  II.  304. 
Lintels  over  arch,  in  Roman  architecture,  I.  93.  ;  under  arch  in  Byzantine 

architecture,  I.  226. 
Lionne,  Hotel  de,  at  Paris,  typical  17tli  century  mansion,  II.  252. 


INDEX.  453 

Lombards,  absence  of  architectural  remains  of.  I.  195.  ;  remarks  of 
Gregory  the  Great  on  the,  I.  195. 

Louis  le  Gros,  King,  lays  the  foundation  of  St.  Denis,  1140,  and  is  present 
at  its  completion,  1144,  I.  261. 

Louis  XIV.,  imitation  of  Roman  system  under,  L  110.  ;  influence  in 
stifling  French  art,  I.  242  <:t  seq.  ;  crushing  of  Medieval  democratic 
art  by,  I.  345.  ;  aesthetic  discussions  with  architects,  I.  3GG.  ;  establish- 
ment of  official  architecture  by,  I.  383. ;  anecdote  of  his  mania  for 
symmetry,  I.  464. ;  founds  the  Acadtmie  des  heaux-o.rfs,  I.  141. 

Louis  XV.,  decline  of  the  arts  under,  I,  243. 

Louvois,  Marquis  de  (1641—1691),  L  464. 

Louvre,  palace  of  the,  I.  250,  361. ;  Bernini's  design  for,  I.  367. 

Luxembourg  Palace,  I.  380. 

Lycian  sarcophagus  in  British  Museum,  a  stone  reproduction  of  carpentry 
work,  iltustratcd,  L  43. 

Lysicrates,  choragic  monument  of,  I.  102.  ;  11.  183. 


M. 

Machinery,  discordance  between  practice  of  architecture  and  modern 
machinery,  II.  105. 

Madama  villa,  I.  S74. 

Mannerism  in  art,  I.  188. 

Mansard,  Francois  (1598—1666),  I.  243. 

Mansard,  Jules  Hardouin  (1645—1708),  1.  243,  464. 

Mansion.     Scf  Domestic  Architecture. 

Mantes,  church  of  Notre  Dame,  I.  287. 

Marcellus,  theatre  of,  at  Eome,  illustrated,  I.  211. 

Marieul,  Abbot  of  Cluny,  I.  256. 

Marquises,  (awnings),  II.  253.' 

Market  Hall,  example  of,  in  combined  iron  and  masonry,  illustrated,  II.  (Vl 
et  seq. 

Masonry,  II.  1  ct  seq. ;  early  Greek  C3'clopean,  iUustmtrd,  II.  6. ;  Roman, 
ilhistrated,  I.  184.;  II.  10.;  Media3val,  II.  11.;  masonry  in  elevation, 
II.  24  et  seq. ;  precautions  against  decay  of  stone,  II.  15,  26. ;  use  of 
dowels,  illustrated,  II.  28  ;  illogical  use  of  material,  II.  31. ;  logical  use 
of  material  exampled  from  hypothetical  design,  illustrated,  II.  40 
ct  ser^. 

Master-masons,  their  functions,  1.  350. 

Maury,  M.,  successful  constructor  of  iron  windows  (1867),  II.  306. 

Mazarin,  Cardinal  (1602 — 1661),  founds  the  French  Academy  of  Painting 
and  Sculpture  (1648),  II.  148. 

Mazarin,  Hotel,  I.  380. 


454  INDEX. 

MediBBval  Architecture,  western,  Greek  influence  on  the  western  arts,  I.  198, 
200  ii  [Xissim ;  Charlemagne,  the  first  to  revive  western  art,  I.  191). ; 
monastic  schools,  I.  199.  ;  the  Eoman  form,  I.  201.  ;  oriental  decoration, 
I.  201.  ;  Byzantine  influence,  I.  201.  ;  I'^poquc  romane,  I.  202.  ;  French 
niediajval  art,  I.  202.  ;  influence  of  Christianity,  I.  205.  ;  encyclopasdic 
movement  of  13th  century,  I.  206.  ;  slight  influence  of  the  Crusades,  I. 
207.  ;  the  basilica,  the  model  of  mediaeval  building,  ilhistraied,  I.  208. 

Bomanesque. 

Romanesque  development  from  Roman  arrangements,  1. 209.  ;  develop- 
ment of  Roman  superimposed  columns,  illustrati'd,  I.  229.  ;  Romanesque 
arcade,  illustrated,  I.  231. ;  clustered  column,  illtistmtcd,  I.  232.  ; 
architecture  becomes  construction,  I.  233.  ;  rise  of  monastic  Romanesque 
art,  I.  235. ;  reform  of  Cluny,  I.  235.  ;  of  Citeaux,  I.  236.  ;  lay  buildings 
preserve  Roman  construction,  I.  236.  ;  distinct  architectural  methods  in 
Romanesque  period,  and  their  reason,  I.  236.  ;  rise  of  national  spirit 
makes  monastic  art  disappear,  I.  236. ;  the  influence  of  Cluny,  I.  256. ; 
the  Clunisian  spirit,  I.  258. ;  Cistercian  and  Clunisian  rivalry,  I.  260. ; 
difi"erent  types  of  Romanesque,  Burgundy,  Champagne,  Auvergne,  Poitou, 
Normandy,  Ile-de-France,  Saintonge,  I.  275. ;  details  from  Vezelay, 
illustrated,  I.  258. ;  from  Saintes,  illustrated,  I.  276. ;  Peterborough, 
illustrated,  I.  279. ;  base-mouldings,  illustrated,  I.  308. 

Gothic  Architceturc  {TJic  Western  Secular  School). 

The  exponent  of  13th-century  spirit,  I.  237. ;  a  protest  against  monas- 
ticism,  I.  238. ;  its  independence  of  external  influence,  I.  239. ;  aban- 
donment of  colour,  I.  249. ;  ecclesiastical  encouragement  of  the  communal 
spirit,  I.  263. ;  development  of  Gothic  type  of  building  from  Roman 
basilica,  ilhtstratcd,  I.  264  ct  scq. ;  comparison  of  Gothic  and  Greek 
sj)irit,  I.  272. ;  development  of  the  secular  spirit,  I.  274. ;  of  the  national 
spirit  in  France,  I.  280. ;  sul)ordination  of  form  to  requirements,  I.  281 
et  'passim ;  sincerity,  I.  282. ;  unity  of  structure  and  ornament,  I.  283. ; 
optical  illusion,  how  overcome,  illustrated,  I.  287. ;  treatment  of  Angles, 
illustrated,  I.  294. ;  the  Cathedral  of  Paris,  fully  described  as  a  typical 
building  of  the  French  Secular  School,  illustrated,  I.  297  et  seq. ;  demo- 
cratic spirit  of,  I.  304,  345.  ;  mouldings,  illustrated,  I.  310  ct  seq.  ; 
gutters,  XL  47. ;  scafiblding,  II.  49. 

The  principles  of  the  Secular  School  most  adapted  for  using  new 
materials  in  modern  times,  I.  281. 

Mt'dicis,  Catherine  de,  begins  tlie  Tuileries,  1564,  I.  358. 

Merimee,  Prosper  (1803—1870),  "  History  of  the  Roman  people"  quoted 
I.  71. 

Mesdjid-i-Shah,  Mosque  of,  at  Ispahan,  illustrated,  II.  195. 

Mesopotamia.     See  Assyrian  Architecture. 

Metapontuni,  temple  of,  mouldings  from,  illustrated,  I.  440. 


INDEX.  455 

Michelozzo,  Midi.  (1402—1470),  [.  239. 

Module,  in  Greek  Architecture,  dependent  on  itself;  in  Mediaaval  Arclii- 

tecture,  external  to  itself,  the  human  size ;    in  Koiuan  Architecture,  a 

transition  between  these  two,  I.  81,  466.;  in  Byzantine  Architecture,  the 

column,  I.  467. 
Moissac,  abbey  of,  II.  230. 

Monastic  influence  in  architecture.     Scr  Media3val  Architecture. 
Moutereau,  Pierre  de,  I.  190. 
Montesquieu,  remarks  on  Koman  religion,  I.  94. 
Montr(?al,  village  church  of,  an  example  of  principles  of  French  Secular 

School   adapted  to  small  work,  illustratcO,  I.   304. ;    mouldings  from, 

illustrated,  1.  309,  438. 
Mouldings,  their  twofold  purpo.se,  practical  and  ajsthestic,  I.  306. ;  comparison 

between  Greek,  Romanesque,  Byzantine,  and  Eoman,  illiisf rated,  I.  307 

et  seq. ;   elementary  arrangements  of,  illustrated,  I.  435. ;    Greek  and 

Media3val,  compared,  illustrated,  I.  436. 
Mousseron,  system  of  flue."?,  II.  324. 
Mud  walling,  in  primitive  architecture,  II.  171. 
Muette,  chateau  de  la,  described  and  illustrated,  I.  355. 
Mummius  Achaicus  {circa  B.C.  150),  I.  95. 

Munich,  modern  imitation  of  various  styles  of  architecture  in,  II.  385. 
MyceucB,  base-mouldings  of  Persian  and  Assyrian  character,  I.  306. 


N. 

Nestorhns  carry  Byzantine  art  to  Africa,  I.  193. ;  influence  of  their 
doctrines  on  Arab  art,  I.  227. ;  their  influence  on  Persian  Arab 
architecture,  I.  428. 

Nevers,  church  of  St.  £tienne,  mouldings  from,  iUastrated,  I.  308. 

Nimes,  arena  of,  I.  91. ;  I.  130.;  I.  211. 

Nineteenth-century  architecture,  absence  of  principle  in  design,  I.  321. ; 
demand  for  a  system  conformable  to  modern  habits,  I.  323. ;  causes  of 
absence  of  a  real  architecture,  I.  384  ct  scq. ;  requirements  of  modern 
architects,  I.  388. ;  reasons  of  debasement  discussed,  T,  446  rt  seq. ;  im- 
portance of  method  in  study,  I.  446. ;  the  materials  and  the  programme, 

I.  461. ;  folly  of  copying  classic  forms,  I.  470. ;  ennui,  1. 473. ;  falsehood 
and  fitness,  I.  480,  482. 

Advantages  of  hydraulic  concrete,  II.  IS.  ;  illogical  use  of  material-:,  II. 
31,  51,  104. ;  logical  use  of  materials,  illustrated  by  hypothetical  designs, 

II.  40  et  seq. ;  openings  for  economy,  II.  52,  81,  96.  ;  insufficient  use  of 
modern  machinery,  II.  105. ;   extensiveness  of  requirements,  II.  106.  ; 
is  present  state  confusion  or  transition  ?  II.  109. ;   common  sense,  II 
109  et  seq. ;  sculpture,  II.  215. ;  necessity  for  improvement  in  details  of 
domestic  buildings,  II.  290. ;  Parisian  dwellings  of  the  future,  II.  295.  ; 


456  TNDEX. 

present  state  of  architecture  in  Europe,  II.  381.     See  also  Academie  des 

Beaux-Arts  ;  Domestic  architecture;  Iron  ;  Iron  and  masonry  combined  ; 

Masonry. 
Nineveh,  imitation  in  stone  of  timber  construction,  I.  38. ;  glazed  brick 

voussoirs  found  at,  I.  72.     Sec  also  Assyrian  Architecture. 
Norman  Architecture,  best  examples  to  be  found  in  England,  I.  278. 
Normandy,  character  of  its  Romanesque,  I.  275. 
Noyon,  cathedral  of,  building  of,  circa  1150,  I.  262.  ;  I.  433. 

0. 

Odo,  Abbot  of  Cluny  (87y— 943),  T.  256. 

Odilon,  Abbot  of  Cluny,  I.  256. 

Ogive,   the  pointed   arch,  how   generated  from   the  Egyptian    triangle, 

I.  425. 
Omar,  Caliph  (581 — 644),  his  destruction  of  Alexandrian  library,  I.  427. 
Oppert,  Jules,  Mesopotamian  expedition  of  (1835),  II.  179. 
Optical  illusion,  how  counteracted  by  mediteval  builders,  illustrated^  I.  284. ; 

by  the  Greeks,  iUudmtcd,  I.  288. 
Order,  the  composition  of  the  Greek  architectural  order,  I.  80. ;  its  laws  of 

proportion  not  absolute  but  relative,   I.  87.  ;  use  of,  by  Romans  as  a 

moveable   decoration,   I.    210.  ;   use   of,   in   early   French   renaissance, 

I.  368. ;  abandonment  of  fixed  proportions  of,  by  Byzantine  Greeks,  I. 
430. ;  used  in  ornamentation,  II.  190,  191. 

Orientation,  care  observed  in,  by  the  Romans,  exemplified  in  their 
Thermas,  I.  124,  126. ;  in  modern  buildings,  II.  274,  361. ;  eSect  on 
ornamenta^iion,  II.  189. 

Ornamentation,  in  architecture,  two  systems  of,  embroidery,  and  attached 
ornament,  I.  467.;  Egyptian,  II.  170.;  Greek,  II.  176.;  sculp- 
ture in,  II.  177.  ;  Roman,  II.  177,  182,  187. ;  Assyrian,  II.  178. ; 
Persian,  II.  181,  195.  ;  Syrian,  II.  185.  ;  Byzantine,  II.  186.  ;  effect 
of  light  on,  II.  188.  ;  effect  of  orientation  on,  II.  189.  ;  the  orders  in, 

II.  189.  ;  necessity  of  subordination  of,  II.  192.  ;  "Venetian,  II.  198.  ; 
principles  of  good  and  bad,  II.  201. ;  examples  of  vicious  method,  II. 
201. ;  relation  between  internal  and  external,  II.  202. ;  common  sense 
in,  II,  203. 

P. 

Paestum,  amphitheatre  of,  I.  131.;  basilica  of,  I.  154.;  temples  at,  illm- 

trntccl,  I.  229. ;  II.  194. 
Painting,  its  relation  to  architecture,  I.  13,  250.     -Sec  cdso  Colour. 
Palladio,  Andrea  (1518—1580),  I.  141. 
Pamphili,  villa,  I.  168. 
Paudrosium  of  Athens,  portico  of,  illustnUcd,  I.  291. ;  sculpture  of,  II.  219, 

241. 


INDEX.  457 

Pantheon,  description  of,  illustrated,  I,  112. 

Paris,  centi-e  of  intellectual  ideas  in  early  mediajval  period,  I.  206. 

Cathedral  of,  begun  by  Bishop  de  Sully  about  1160,  I.  262. ;  general 

description   of,   illustrated,   I.   297  et  seq. ;    proportions  of,   illustrated, 

I.  402 ;    mouldings  from,    illustrated,   I.  438. ;    Frcimin's  remarks  on, 

II.  35. ;  sculpture  of,  II.  223,  230. 

Halles  Centrales,  I.  321. ;  II.  44,  58. 

Hotel  des  Invalides,  I.  372. 

Madeleine,  the,  I.  186. ;  II.  222. 

Palais  du  Conseil  d'fitat,  II.  26. 

Palais  de  Justice,  II.  202. 

•  Palais  de  I'Industrie,  II.  86. 

Pantheon,  I.  186. 

Petits-Peres,  church  of,  II.  ?6. 

■ — —  Sainte-Chapelle,  II.  35. 

St.  Enstache,  I.  378. ;  II.  36. 

St.  Sulpice,  II.  36. 

Salle  des  pas  perdus,  II.  202. 


Parthenon,  Doric  capital  from,  illustrated,  I.  85.  ;  proportions  of,  illustrated, 
I.  396. ;  sculptures  of,  II.  238.  ;  arithmetical  laws  of  design,  II.  437. 

Patriotism,  its  effect  on  art,  I.  65. 

Pausanias  (circa  a.d.  174),  I.  67,  88,  117,  252. 

Pavilion,  the  typical  French  country-house,  II.  349. 

Pendeutives,  in  Byzantine  architecture,  I.  193.  ;  I.  424. 

Pericles,  sculptured  ornament  dates  from  the  time  of,  II.  177. 

Perigueux,  10th  century,  church  at,  Byzantine  in  form,  Eoman  in  decora- 
tion, 1.201. 

Perrault,  Charles  (1628—1703),  I.  110,  141,  367. 

Perrault,  Claude  (1613—1688),  I.  367. 

Persepolis,  stone  imitation  of  timber  construction,  illustrated,  I.  41. 

Persian  architecture,  mosque  of  Mesdjid-i-Shah,  illustrated,  11.  195.  See 
cdso  Arab  Architecture. 

Perspective,  necessity  of  studying,  in  design,  I.  272,  388. ;  failure  of 
buildings  owing  to  disregard  of,  I.  334. ;  influence  on  proportions,  illus- 
trated, I.  411. 

Peruzzi,  Baldassare  (1481—1536),  I.  239. 

Peterborough  Cathedral,  illustrated,  I.  279. 

Peter  the  Venerable,  Abbot  of  Cluny  (1093—1156),  letter  to  St.  Bernard 
on  Christian  charity,  I.  259. 

Phidias  {circa  B.C.  450),  II.  213. 

Phigalia,  mouldings  from,  illustrated,  I.  441. 

Phoenician  art,  affinity  with  Etruscan  and  Judean,  I.  214. 

Picturesque,  the,  in  architecture,  compared  with  symmetry,  I.  253. ;  among 
the  Greeks,  I.  291. 
VOL.  II.  2  G 


458  INDEX. 

Pierrefond,  chateau  de,  sculpture  in,  11.  237. 

Piles,  foundations  on,  II.  17. 

Pisa,  cathedral  of,  compared  with  St.  Eutropius  at  Saintes,  I.  276. 

Place,  M.,  Assyrian  discoveries  of,  II.  180. 

Pliny,  the  Consul  {circa  a.d.  100),  description  of  his  Laurentine  villa, 

I.  161,  163. 
Plutarch,  remarks  on  proportion  in  Egyptian  buildings,  I.  391. 
Poitou,  character  of  its  Komanesque,  I.  275. 
Pola  in  Illyria,  amphitheatre  at,  I.  134. 
Pompeii,  Greek  domestic  architecture  seen  at,  I.  70,  412. ;   absence  of 

symmetry  in  domestic  buildings  at,  I.  160. ;  mouldings  from,  illustrated, 

I.  439. 

Ponchartrain,  Comte  de  (1643—1727),  I.  213. 

Pont  du  Gard,  I.  91.  ;  example  of  Roman  concentric  arches,  II.  8. 

Ponts  et  Chaussees,  excellent  system  of  superintendence,  II.  164. 

Portico,  in  French  renaissance  chateaux,  I.  353. ;   in  modern  mansions, 

II.  287. 

Preux  and  Preuses  (the  types  of  knighthood),  mediieval  towers  adorned  with 

statues  of,  II.  237. 
Primaticcio,   Francis    (1490 — 1570),  employed   to  complete    chateau   de 

Boulogne,  I.  351. 
Primitive  architecture,  construction,  illustrcdcd,  I.  37  ct  scq. ;  traditions  of 

mud  walling,  II.  171. 
Proportion  in  design,  discussed  generally,  I.  390. ;  the  Egyptian  triangle, 

illustrcded,  I.  391,  400. ;  the  equilateral  triangle,  I.  392. ;  methods  of 

obtaining  proportion,  illustrated,!.  393  ei  seq.;  the  pyramid,  I.  394.; 

influence  of  perspective,  I.  411. ;    proportions  of  interiors,  I.  413. ;  in 

Pioman  buildings,  illnsfrated,  I.  113;  effect  of  colour  on,  I.  247. 
Pyramid,  as  a  generator  of  proportion  in  architecture,  I.  394. 
Pyramid,  the  Great,  proportions  of,  I.  399. 
Pytheus,  I.  104. 

Q. 

QuATREMERE  DE  QuiNCY,  A.  C.  (1755—1849),  vicws  on  Etruscan  amphi- 
theatres, I.  131,  ;  remarks  on  composition,  I.  319. 

K. 
Eailwat  works  akin  to  Roman  method  of  building,  I.  91. 
Eamk>,  Daniel,  demonstration  of  proportions  of  the  Great  Pyramid,  1.  399. 
Piavenna,  church  of  San  Vitale,  a  Byzantine  building,  I.  194. 
Eaynaud,  Leonce,  his  definition  of  style,  I.  177. ;  his  error  about  the  Lom- 
bards, I.  195. 
Reformation,  the,  influence  of,  on  architecture,  I.  241. 


INDEX.  459 

Renaissance  architecture,  French,  beginning  of,  about  1440, 1.  349. ;  Italian 
influence,  I.  239,  350. ;  purely  French  character  of  early  examples 
I.  350. ;  programme  of  typical  chateau  (de  Bouiogue),  I.  353. ;  hampered 
by  intrigues,  I.  361. ;  typical  manor-house  from  Du  Cerceau,  iUustrated, 
I.  364.  ;  "  distinction "  tlie  principal  excellence  of,  I.  365. ;  the  airs  of 
the  Italian  artists,  I.  366.  ;  use  of  the  orders,  I.  368.  ;  the  colossal  order, 
1.  372. ;  causes  of  decline,  I.  372,  377. 

Renaissance,  Italian,  failure  of  Italians  to  create  a  mediteval  architecture, 
I.  239. ;  personal,  not  national  character  of  early  examples,  I.  239. ; 
truth  the  undeviating  principle  of  the  best  examples,  I.  374. 

Restorations,  false  notions  generated  by  inaccurate  drawings  of,  I.  348. 
Retaining  walls,  Roman  method,  illustrated,  II.  22. 

Rheims,  church  of  St.  Remy  at,  example  of  column  used  as  buttress,  illus- 
trated, I.  228.  ;  clustered  column  from,  iUustrated,  I.  231. 

Robbia,  Jerome  della  (1527—1566),  I.  350. 
Rochette,  Raoul,  strictures  on  Gothic  architecture,  I.  414. 
Roland,  Chanson  de,  typical  of  the  faith  and  genius  of  the  age  (12th  century), 
I.  342. 

Roman  architecture,  contrasted  witli  Greek,  I.  63,  71,  92,  197,  271,  329, 
444.;  II.  178  et  passim;  sources  whence  derived,  I.  72.;  the  exponent 
of  the  Roman  political  system,  I.  74. ;  spirit  of  Roman  architecture 
described,  I.  90  et  seq. ;  indifference  to  artistic  form,  but  concern  for 
utilitarian  service,  I.  91. ;  essentially  a  means  for  the  satisfaction  of  a  want, 
1. 101. ;  adaptations  from  the  Greeks,  1. 102. ;  employment  of  Corinthian 
order,  1. 102. ;  change  of  the  Greek  Doric  order,  1. 102.;  absolute  symmetry, 
the  law  of,  1. 103. ;  two  distinct  modes  of  construction  in :  masonry,  rubble 
and  brick,  I.  106. ;  programme  of  a  Roman  ball,  described,  illustrated, 
I.  107. ;  economy  in  construction,  I.  108. ;  decoration  borrowed  from  the 
Greeks,  I.  108. ;  use  of  stucco,  I.  109. ;  spirit  of  Roman  taste  defined,  I. 
109.;  disposition  of  plan,  and  of  construction,  I.  111. ;  development  of  vault- 
ing under  the  Empire,  I.  112. ;  description  of  the  Pantheon,  illustrated,  I. 
112. ;  want  of  harmony  between  Roman  construction  and  Greek  decoration 
of  the  Pantheon,  I.  114.;  system  of  Roman  decoration  discussed,  I.  116.; 
real  Roman  artistic  feeling  shown  in  Trajan's  column,  1. 117. ;  description 
of  barracks  and  camps,  iUustrated,  I.  119.;  description  of  Thermae,  ilhbs- 
trated,  I.  120  et  seq. ;  construction  contrasted  with  modern,  I.  125.  ; 
timber  roofing  abandoned  after  the  burning  of  Rome,  I.  127. ;  system  of 
vaulting,  I.  128. ;  employment  of  columns,  I.  128.  ;  amphitheatre 
described,  and  iUustrated,  I.  130  et  seq.;  the  basilica  described,  and 
illustrated,  I.  147  et  seq. ;  timber  roofing  of  basilica  of  Fano,  I.  153. ; 
bronze  ceilings,  1. 154. ;  principles  immutable,  though  arrangements  vary, 
I.  155.  ;  difiTerence  between  domestic  and  official  architecture,  I.  159. ; 
absence  of  symmetry  in  domestic  buildings,  I.  160.;  description  of 
Pliny's  Laurentine  villa,  I.  163. ;  domestic  buildings,  I.  160  ct  seq. ; 
decline  of  Roman  architecture,  I.  168.;   masonry  of  best  period,  illus- 


460  INDEX. 

tratcd,  I.  184. ;  caliitnns  employed  as  buttresses,  iUnstrcded,  I,  210  ct 
seq.;  aTchesnnder  entahlatvires,  illustrated,  1.212.;  principles  in  selection 
of  sites,  illustrated,  I.  254. ;  essential  elements  of  construction  cxampled 
from  basilica  of  Constantine,  illustmted,  I.  264. ;  mouldings,  I.  307.  ; 
cornice,  illustrated,  I.  311.  ;  absence  of  Koman  element  that  could  i)ro- 
duce  original  form  in  art  or  poetry,  I.  342. ;  genius  of  Koman  architecture, 
I.  418,  471  et  passim;  influence  on  the  Greeks  and  on  Western  nations, 

I.  417  et  passim ;  comparisons  with  Byzantine,  illustrated,  421  ct 
passim  ;  stability  secured  by  agglomeration,  II.  8.;  masonry,  illustrated, 

II.  10.  ;  foundations,  illustrated,  II.  17. ;  retaining  walls,  illustrated, 
II.  23.  ;  gutters,  II.  47.  ;  scaffolding,  II.  49.  ;  sculpture,  II.  219,  225. 

Romulus,  hut  of,  ancient  thatched  roof  of  I.  36. 

Roofing,  in  primitive  architecture,  I.  36.  ;   Eoman,  I.  128. ;  of  basilica, 

I.  153. ;  optical  illusion  in,  I.  285. ;  iron,  in  modern  domestic  architec- 
ture, illustrated,  II.  334  et  seq.;    elementary  construction,  illustrated, 

II.  345.  ;  projecting  roof  the  best  wall  ])rotection,  II.  350. ;  roof  cover- 
ings, II.  351. 

Routine,  deteriorating  influence  of,  on  architectural  progress,  II.  70. 

Rubble,  II.  16. 

Russia,  present  state  of  architecture  in,  II.  387. 


Saintes,  church  of  St.  Eutropius,  illustrated,  I.  276. 

arch  of,  wood  dovetailing  found  in,  II.  28. 

Saintonge,  character  of  its  Romanesque,  I.  275. 

San  Vitale,  church  of,  a  Byzantine  building,  I.  194. 

Sanitary  precautions,  in  Roman  camps,  I.  119. 

Sansovino,  Jacopo  (1479—1570),  I.  239. 

Santa  Maria  del  Popolo,  I.  374. 

Saulcy,  M,  de,  researches  in  Palestine,  I.  214  ;  I.  219. 

Saulnier,  M.,  building  of  iron  and  brick  erected  by  (1870),  II.  327. 

Saussaye,  L.  de  la,  "le  chateau  de  Chambord,"  I.  350. 

Saussaye,  M.  de  la,  refutation  of  theory  of  employment  of  Italian  artists  in 
French  renaissance,  I.  338. 

Scaffolding,  economy  to  be  followed  in,  exampled  from  Roman  and  Mediasval 
methods,  II.  49. 

Scale,  different  scales  employed  in  Greek,  Roman,  Byzantine,  and  Medieeval 
architecture,  I.  466. 

Sculpture,  monumental,  relation  to  architecture,  I.  13. ;  II.  209  ct 
scq.;  in  Egyptian  architecture,  II.  211,  224,  238.;  in  Greek  archi- 
tecture, I.  61. ;  II.  177,  213,  240. ;  necessity  of  Idea  in,  II.  215,  221. ; 
in  19th-century  architecture,  II.  215,  220.  ;  in  mediaeval  archi- 
tecture, II.  218,  222,  225. ;  in  Roman  architecture,  II.  219,  225. ; 
sentiments  to  be  represented  in,   II.   225. ;    comparison    between   the 


INDEX.  461 

^ladeleine  and  Notre  Dame,  Paris,  II.  222. ;  three  distinct  systems  of, 
Egyptian,  Koman,  mediaeval,  II.  224,  226. ;  examples  of  grand  effect  in 
media3val  architecture,  II.  230. ;  examples  from  Vezelay,  ilhistirdcd,  II. 
233  ;  examples  of  medicBval  conception,  iUmtraterl,  II.  234  ;  Preux  and 
Preuse.",  II.  237. ;  execution  of,  II.  238. ;  realism  in,  II.  239.  ;  effect  of 
light  on,  11.240.;  effect  of  climate  on,  II.  242.;  general  remarks  on, 
II.  243. 

Segesta,  I.  49,  70. 

Selinuntum,  example  of  Greek  care  in  arranging  sites,  I.  G9.  ;  quarries  at, 
show  manner  of  Greek  construction,  I.  46. ;  Doric  capital  from,  illns- 
tratal,  I.  86. 

Senlis,  cathedral  of,  built  about  1150,  I.  262. ;  side-door  of,  illustrated, 
I.  290. 

Serlio,  Sebastian  (1475—1552),  II.  87. 

Service  d'architecture,  under  the  Second  Empire,  II.  395  cl  scq. 

Servilius  Ahala,  I.  98. 

Severus,  Alexander,  Emperor  (205 — 235),  I.  135. 

Shops,  requirements  in  modern  building,  II.  320. 

Sienna,  cathedral  of,  I.  374. 

Sincerity,  or  truth,  essential  to  style  in  art,  I.  282,  304,  331  d  pa.ssim. 

Site,  care  in  selection  and  improvement  of,  in  classical  architecture,  I.  68, 
91,  252,  254,  389.     Sec  also  Orientation. 

Solomon's  temple,  remains  of  arch  at  platfoim  of,  illaslrated,  I.  215. 

Sophistry  in  art,  I.  143. 

Spurius  Mcelius,  I.  98. 

St.  Antonin,  mouldings  from,  illustrated,  1.  309,  442. 

St.  Chamas,  Koman  arch  at,  illustrated,  I.  398.   ■ 

St.  Denis,  church  of,  built  by  Abbot  Suger  (1140—1146),  I.  261. ;  facade 

of,  an  example  of  optical  illusion,  illustrated,  I.  287. ;    tomb  of  the 

Valois  at,  I.  376. 
St.  Germain-en-Laye,  chateau  de,  I.  357. 
St.  Julien-le-Pauvre,  church  of,  I.  433. 
St.  Martin-des  -Champs,  refectory  of,  I.  284. 
St.  Peter's,  Rome,  statue  of  Constantiue  in,  I.  13.  ;  effect  of  size  of,  on  the 

observer,  I.  20,   413,   410. ;    equability   of  temperature   in,    I.    126. ; 

dimensions  of  dome,  II.  86.  ;  ornamentation  diminishes  the  apparent  size 

of,  II.  188. 
St.  Philip's,  fountain  of,  at  Jerusalem,  a  purely  Eoman  building,  1.  223. 
St.  Simon,  anecdote  of  Louis  xiv.,  I.  464. 
St.     Sophia,    Constantinople,    completion    of,    by    Justinian,    I.     193. ; 

dimensions  of  cupola,  II.  86. ;  ornamentation  of,  enhances  apparent  size, 

II.  188. 
St.  Wandrille,  church  of,  I.  279. 


462  INDEX. 

Stairs,  ia  mediteval  and  renaissance  architecture,  I.  351. ;  in  modern 
buildings,  II.  304. 

Statics,  necessary  subordination  to  tlie  laws  of,  I.  144. 

Stone,  French  quarries,  II.  24,  26,  31,  41,  49,  104. 

String  course,  12th  century,  mouldings  of,  illustrated,  I.  311. 

Stuart,  James  (1713 — 1788),  "Antiquities  of  Athens,"  and  drawings  of 
amphitheatre  at  Pola,  1. 135. 

Stucco,  use  by  the  Komans,  I.  109. 

Study  of  Architecture,  methods  to  be  followed,  I.  139  et  seq. 

Style,  the  refuge  of  the  highly  civilised  artist  deprived  of  the  use  of 
gesture,  I.  32. ;  difference  between  styles  and  the  Styles,  I.  177  et  seq, ; 
style  and  mannerism,  I.  188.;  defined  and  discussed,  illustrated, 
1. 177  et  seq. 

Suger,  Abbot  of  St.  Denis  (1087—1152),  I.  259,  261. 

Sully,  Bishop  Maurice  de,  begins  cathedral  of  Paris  (1160),  I.  262. 

Sun,  the,  the  generating  principle  of  forms  of  Greek  architecture,  I.  56. 

Symmetry,  in  Greek  architecture,  T.  54,  88  ;  its  subordination  to  reasonable 
fitness,  esampled  from  the  Erechtheium,  I.  57;  the  law  of  Koman 
architecture,  I.  103;  absence  of,  in  Eoman  domestic  buildings,  I.  160.; 
modern  symmetry  contrasted  with  classical,  I.  253,  347 ;  contrasted  with 
the  picturesque,  I.  283;  Louis  xiv.'s  mania  for,  I.  464  ;  symmetry  con- 
trasted with  equilibration,  I.  475. ;  in  modern  domestic  architecture, 
II.  267  et  passim. 

Syracuse,  theatre  of,  I.  69,  131. 

Syrian  architecture.     See  Judaean,  Byzantine. 


T. 

Takchesius,  I.  104. 

Tanlay,  chateau  de,  I.  368. 

Taste,  an  involuntary  process  of  reasoning,  I.  29. 

Teaching  of  architecture,  great  point  to  be  imparted,  I.  145. ;  the 
academic  systern,  II.  140  et  seq. ;  the  atelier  system,  II.  161.  ;  the 
English  system,  II.  383. ;  practical  education  in  the  building-yard, 
II.  428. 

Terra-cotta,  use  of,  II."^9. ;  in  decorative  vaulting,  II.  134. 

Texier,  M.,  his  drawing  of  tombs  in  Asia  Minor,  I.  42. 

Teynard,  Felix,  illustration  of  Egyptian  architecture,  II.  238. 

Theatre,  Greek,  compared  with  Koman  amphitheatre,  I.  131. 

Theleme,  abbey  of,  I.  349. 

Thermae,  Eoman,  described,  illustratcel,  I.  120  et  seq.  ;  I.  348. 

Theseus,  temple  of,  at  Athens,  effect  of  disappearance  of  colour  of,  I.  56. 

Thomas,  E.,  Assyrian  discoveries  of,  II.  180. 


INDEX.  463 

Thoricus,  basilica  of,  I.  154. 

Thrust,  novel  method  of  resisting,  by  iron  struts,  illustrated,  II.  60.  ;  b}- 
cellular  construction,  illustrated,  II.  76. 

Timber  construction,  in  primitive  architecture,  described  and  illustrated, 
I.  36  et  seq. ;  its  Aryan  origin,  II.  4.  ;  Egyptian  imitation  of,  in  stone, 
illustrated,  II.  174. 

Titus,  Emperor  (a.d.  40 — 81),  repairs  Claudian  aqueduct,  I.  91.  ;  completes 
Coliseum,  I.  132. 

thermaj  of,  I.  120,  412. 

arch  of,  illustrated,  I.  398. 

Tivoli,  temple  of  Vesta  at,  example  of  hemispherical  vaulted  roof,  I.  112.  ; 
Adrian  villa  at,  I.  118. 

Town  hall,  examples  of,  using  modern  appliances,  illustrated,  II.  79. 
118. 

Trajan,  column  of,  example  of  real  Koman  artistic  feeling,  I.  117. ;  arch 
of,  I.  397.  ;  column  of,  II.  217. 

Tre'mouille,  Hotel  de,  example  of  typical  arrangements  of  French  town- 
houses,  16th  and  17th  centuries,  II.  262. 

Triangle,  Egyptian,  a  generator  of  proportions,  1.  391  et  seq.  ;  the  equi- 
lateral, I.  392. 

Trianon,  chateau  de,  I.  464. 

Triglyphs,  their  true  function,  I.  53.  ;  quotation  from  Euripides  bearing 
on,  I.  53. ;  Vitruvius's  remarks  on,  I.  105.  ;  fluting  of,  II.  176.  ;  use  in 
Judtean  architecture,  illustrated,  I.  219. 

Trinqueau,  I.  350. 

Tuileries,  palace  of  the,  Delorme's  plan  descrihed,  illii.sirafed,  I.  358. ; 
failure  of  ornamentation  by  orders  in  the  pavilion  de  Flore,  II.  190. 

Turnus,  church  at,  I.  231. 

Tusculum,  house  of  Cicero  at,  I.  156. 

U. 

UcHARD,  M.,  researches  on  mouldings,  I.  439. 
Ulpiana,  basilica,  I.  348. 


Vatican,  the,  I.  374. 

Vaulting,  Etruscan  origin  of  the  Eoraan,  I.  72.  ;  remains  of,  at  Nineveh, 
I.  72. ;  hypothetical  reason  of  its  non-employment  by  the  Greeks,  I.  92  ; 
Koman  system  of,  I.  128.  ;  Roman  system  of,  carried  to  Byzantium. 
I.  192. ;  mediaeval  development  from  Eoman,  I.  209.  ;  iron  and 
masonry  combined,  hypothetical  examples  of,  illustrated,  II.  37,  60  et 
seq.;  fan-vaulting,  II.    129.  ;  applied  to  iron  net-work,  II.  132. 

Vaux,  chateau  de,  I.  372,  380. 


464  INDEX. 

Venice,  church  of  St.  Mark,  I.  200. ;  Procurazzi  palace,  II.  200.  ;  Doges' 
palace,  ill  est  ratal,  II.  198. ;  typical  palace,  illust  rated,  II.  2.55. 

Ventilation,  in  modern  dwellings,  II.  291. 

Verona,  amphitheatre  of,  I.  130. 

Vesone,  tower  of,  example  of  thin  Roman  walls  with  light  roof,  II.  9. 

Vespasian,  Emperor  (a.d.  9 — 79),  restores  Claudian  aqueduct,  I.  91.;  com- 
pletes Coliseum,  I.  132. 

Versailles,  marbles  at,  inconvenience  of  internal  arrangements,  I.  380. 

Vezelay,  church  of,  illustrated,  I.  240,  257,  258. ;  mouldings  from,  illus- 
trated, I.  309,  438,  443. 

St.  Pierre  sous,  church  of,  illustrated,  II.  233. 

Vien,  Joseph  JIary  (171(5 — 1809),  procures  there-establishment  of  the  Art 
Academies  after  the  Kevolution,  II.  149. 

Vienna,  present  state  of  architecture  in,  II.  386.;  the  new  opera-house, 
II.  387. 

Vignola,  J.  Barozzi  da  (1507—1573),  I.  141. 

Vignory,  church  at,  I.  231. 

Viollet-le-Duc,  Eugt^ne  Emanuel  (1814 — 1879),  quotations  from  his  other 
works,  Dictionnaire  raisonn^  el'arehitecture,  I.  200,  202,  209,256,260, 
263,  268,  269,  287,  338,  425,  441,  466. ;  II.  83,  129. ;  Description  de 
Notre  Dame,  I.  302. ;  L'hahitation  urbaiiie  et  des  campagnes  au  xix  sihle, 
II.  378. 

Visigoths,  their  buildings  merely  rude  imitations  of  the  Romans,  I.  195. 

Vitruvius,  Marcus  Pollio  (b.c.  1st  century),  description  of  primitive  con- 
struction, I.  35, 43. ;  analogy  between  the  proportions  of  the  human  body 
and  Greek  orders,  I.  S3. ;  remarks  on  Doric  order,  I.  104. ;  on  propor- 
sions  of  basilica,  I.  147. ;  on  orientation,  architect  of  Fano  basilica, 
I.  148. ;  Aures'  Vitruvian  theory  of  proportion,  I.  392. 

Vogiie,  Melchior  de,  illustration  of  Syrian  house,  by,  II.  185. 

Voltaire,  on  imagination,  I.  174. ;  attack  on  the  Jews,  I.  224. 

Volutes,  in  12th  century  capitals,  illustrated,  I.  433. 

W. 

■Wainscotting,  preservative  against  damp,  II.  mi). 

Warkworth  Castle,  ilhistrated,  II.  367  et  scq. 

Weatherstone,  use  of,  illustrated,  II.  25. 

Winckelmann,  John  Joachim    (1717 — 1768),  the   first  to  apply  critical 

methods  to  classical  art,  II.  207. 
Windows,  modern  requirements,  II.  305. ;    iron  windows,  illustrated,  II. 

307  et  seq. 

Z. 
Zayi,  I.  42. 
Zeuxis  {circa  B.C.  400),  I.  95. 


LIST   OF   WOODCUTS. 


Vohime  I. 


LECTURE  II. 

Fig.  1.  Improbable     primitive    timber 

construction,        .  .  P.  .f" 

„  "2.  Probable  primitive  timber  con- 
struction,    .  .  .      .SS 

,,     3.   Chinese  timber  construction,     .      3!) 

„  ;{.  Stone  pillar  in  imitation  of 
timber  construction,  C'uttack, 
India, .SO 

,,  3.  Stone  pUlar  in  imitation  of 
timber  construction,  Cuttack, 
India,  .  .  .40 

,,     4.  Stone  capital^Piuius  of  Perse- 

polis,  .         .  .         .41 

„     5.  Forked  Post,    .         .         .         .41 

„  5.  Ancient  Asian  timber  construc- 
tion,     4-2 

C.  Form  of  ancient  stone  capital 
suggested  by  carpenter's 
work,  .  .  .42 

,,     7.   Indian  lattice-work  building,  .     4.'? 

,,     8.   Greek     mode    of    hoisting    tlie 

lintel  stones,         .         .         .47 

LECTURE  III. 

Fig.  1.   Successive  forms  of  the  Doric 

capital,        .         .  .8.5 

LECTURE  IV. 
Fig.  1.  Roman  system  of  construction.    1(17 
,,     2.   Plan  of  a  large  Roman  camp.    .    1  l!l 
„     3.  Construction    of     the    Ijanack 

buildings,    .         .  .120 

„     4.   Mode      of      building     of      the 

Roniaus,      ....   12,S 
„      5.  Early  Italiot  amphitheatre,      .    133 

LECTURE  V. 
Fig.  1.   Construction   of   the  teniph^  of 

Fano,  ....   132 

LECTURE   VI. 

Fig.  1.  Primitive  fonn  of  copper  vessel,  179 
„  2.  Modified  form  of  copper  vessel,  ISO 
,,  3.  Bad  form  of  copper  vessel,  .  ISO 
,,  4.  Example  of  Roman  masonry,  .  18.5 
„     5.  Arches    extra<lossed    and    not 

extradossed,  .  .  .   186 

VOL.  n. 


Fig.  6.  Transition  from  the  Roman  to 

the  Gothic  ground-plan,      P.  209 

7.  The  theatre  of  Marcellus,  Home,  211 

8.  The    basilica    of    the    (iiants, 
Agrigentum,  .  .212 

9.  Early    example    of    ai'ch    built 
inmiedi,-»tely  on  the  column,   212 

10.  Remains  of  arch,  platform  of 
Solomon's  temple,         .         .215 

10  h'la.  Masonry  of  the  platform  of 

Solomon's  temple,        .         .  217 

11.  Tomb  of  the  kings,  Jerusalem,  219 

12.  Portion  of  frieze,  tomb  of  the 
kings,  ....  220 

1.'!.   Portions  of  liordering,  tomb  of 

the  kings,    ....   220 

14.  Part  of  tympanum,  tomb  of 
the  judges,  .         .         .  221 

15.  Gate  of  the  enclosure  of  the 
temple,  .Jerusalem,  .  222 

10.  The  Golden  Gate,  Jerusalem,    .  223 

17.  Column  employed  as  a  buttress, 
Church  of  St.  Reray,  Rheims,   228 

18.  Example  of  superimjiosed 
column,  temple  of  Ceres, 
Eleusis 230 

19.  Romanesque  nave  arcade,         .  231 

20.  Romanesque  clustered  column,  232 

21.  Section  of  Romanesque  nave 
pier, 233 

22.  Springing  of  the  arches  on  a 
Roman  pier,         .  .  233 

23.  Springing  of  the  arches  on  a 
Romanesque  pier,         .         .  234 

LECTURE   VII. 


Fig.  1.   Effect  of    colouring  on   juopor- 

tions,  .         ■         .         .  248 

2.  Perspective  view  of  restored 
temple  of  Juno  Lucina,  Asrri- 
gentum,       ....  234 

3.  do.,  do.,      .  .   235 

4.  Transverse  section  and  plan  of 
the  Basilica  of  Constantiue,     204 

3.  Example    of    twelfth    century 

construction,        .         .         .   207 

C.  Details  from  Saint-Eutropius  at 

Saintes,       ....  277 

7.  Primitive  roof -principal.  .         .   285 

2  H 


466 


LIST  OF  WOODCUTS. 


Fig.  8 

,,     <i 

,,    10 

„  11 

„    12. 

,,  i:i. 

„    14 

„  15, 
„   15 

„  16. 
„  17. 
„  IS. 

„  19. 

„  20. 

.,  21. 


„  23. 

„  24. 

„  25. 

„  20. 

„  27. 

„  28. 

„  29. 

„  30 


E.\am]ilr        uf        construction, 

twelfth  centuiy,  .        ]'. 

do.,  do., 

.  Ancient     west     front    of     St. 

Denis,  .         .         .         . 

Inclination  of  angle  columns  in 

Greek  architecture. 
Doorway    with     perpendicular 
jambs,  .         .         .         . 

Doorway  with  inclined  jambs. 
Side  door  of  the  front  of  Senlis 
Cathedral,  .         .         .         . 
I'androsium  of  Athens,    . 
Pose  of  the  Caryatides  of  the 

Pandrosium, 
Inserted  angle-column,     . 
Method  of  staying  a  wall. 
Upper  gallery — front  of  Notre 

Dame  de  Paris,    . 
Aisle     wall-pier  —  Church      of 

Montreale 

Base-moulding  —  great   portico 

of  the  Erechtheium, 
Base-moulding  —  small  portico 

of  the  Erechtheium,     . 
Romanesque    base-moulding  — 

eleventh  century. 
Base-mouldings  — end     of     the 

twelfth  century, 
Base-mouldingof  elevated  shaft. 
Section  of  Greek  cornice. 
Section  of  Roman  cornice. 
String-course,  twelfth  century. 
Use  of  the  conge, 
Misu.se  of  the  conge, 
and  30  Us.   Comparison  between 
Roman  and  mediajval  mould- 
ings,    


28() 
286 

287 

288 

288 
289 

290 
291 

293 
295 
296 

301 

305 

307 

307 

.  308 

309 
309 
310 
311 
311 
312 
312 


313 


LECTURE  VIII. 


Fig.  1.   Plan  of  the  Chateau  de  Cham- 

''ord, ;j55 

,,      2.   Plan    of    the    Chateau     de    la 

Muette 356 

),  3.  Plan  of  renaissance  manor- 
house.  End  of  si.xtecnth 
century,       .         .         .         .304 

„  4.  View  of  renaissance  manor- 
house.  End  of  sixteenth 
century,       ....  305 

„  5.  Treatment  of  a  two-storied 
building — Chateau  de  Chan- 
tilly.     Sixteenth  century,     .  370 


Fig.  1. 

o 

>',  3. 
„  -1. 
„  5. 
„     6. 

„  7. 
„      8. 

„     9  , 

„    10. 

„   II. 

„  12. 
„    13. 

„   14. 

„  15. 
„   16. 

,,    17. 

„   IS. 

„  19. 
„  20. 

„  21. 
22. 

„  23. 

„   24. 


0.  P.art  of  the  exterior  1 
Cliateau  de  Ch.arleval, 

7.  Part  of  the  court  1 
Chateau  de  Charleval, 

LECTURE  IX. 

Method   of    obtaining    pi 
tions, 

do.,  (lu., 

do.,  do., 

i'roportions  of  tlie  Parther. 
:  'roportions  of  the  arch  of  1 
lloman   arch    at   St.    Cho 

Provence,     . 
i'he  Egyptian  trian^^lu,     . 
Proportions  of  the  basilic 
Constantine, 
and  9  i/.s.  Section  of  :^Totre-D 

de  Paris, 
Section    of    the   Cathedral 

Amiens, 
Method    of   obtaining 
tions, 

do.,  do. 


p.-oj 


Influence   of  perspective  efi 

on  jiroportions,     , 
Comparison    of  Byzantine   a 

Roman  architecture,    . 
The  pointed  arch,     . 
Portico  of  the  Mosque  of  Auin 

Cairo, 
Volute  lines  of  French  twelf 

century  cajiitals. 
Elementary  cornice,  string  ai 

base  mouldings, 
Greek  mouldings,     . 
Twelfth  and  thirteenth  centui 

French  mouldings, 
Greek  base  mouldings,     . 
Twelfth  and  thirteenth  centnr 

French  base  mouldings. 
Twelfth    century  French   bas 

mouldings, 
Cajiital  from  the  chapter-house 

Vezelay, 

LECTURE  X. 

Fig.  1.   The  [irinciple  of  equilibration, 
„     2.   ^  do.,  do.,      . 

„     :>.   Treatment  of  the  lower  angle  ol 

a  Greek  pediment, 
,,      4.  Lower  termination  of  a  twelfth 

century  gable, 


Volume  II. 


LECTURE  XL 

.  1.   Early  Greek  masonry, 

2.  Roman  masonry, 

3.  Foundation  on  soft  clay, 

4.  do.,  do., 


I  Fig.  5.   Foundation    on     partly    made 
ground,        ...         P. 
P.   6    I     ,,     0.   Foundations  on  clayey  slopes,  . 
•      10    I      „     7.   Roman    method     of     building 

19  '  against  a  bank,    . 

20  ,     „     7  '"'.•>■.  do.,  do.,    . 


LIKT  OF  WOODCUTS. 


467 


Fig.  S.  Mediiuval  foundation  walls,        V. 
,,     9.   Danger  of  covering  freestone  by 

weatlieratone, 
„    1 0.   Isolated  stone  gutters, 
„    11.   Disintegration  of  stoue   caused 

by  mortar  joints, 
,,  12.  Dowelled  masonry,  . 
,,  \'i.  Example   of   vaulting   without 

buttresses,  .... 

LECTURE  XII. 

g.  1.  McdiiBval  method  for  the 
support  of  a  projectinggallery 
on  stoue  corbels, 

,  2.  Method  for  supporting  a  pro- 
jecting gallery  on  iron   struts, 

,  .3.  Novel  ruethod  of  resisting  the 
thrust  of  vaulting, 

,  4.  Method  for  the  support  of  a 
masonry  structure  on  ob- 
liquely set  iron  columns, 

,,  5.  Plan  iif  buildiug  supported  on 
obliquely  set  iron  columus,  . 

„  6.  Method  of  combined  iron  aud 
masonry  vaulting, 

,,     7.   Details  of  iron  vaulting  truss,  . 

,,  S.  Perspective  view  of  combined 
iron  and  masonry  vaulting, 

,,  9.  Combination  of  iron  and 
masonry  construction.  — 
Method  of  couuteracting  the 
thrust  of  an  arch, 

,,  10.  Combination  of  iron  aud 
masonry  construction.  — 
Method  of  vaulting, 

„   11.  Plan  of  vaulting, 

,,  12.  Combined  iron  and  masonry 
construction.  —  Section  of 
vaulting,      .... 

,,  13.  Combine<l  iron  aud  masoury 
construction. — Details  of  the 
iron-work, 

,,   14.  Method  of  vaulting  a  dome, 

,,  15.  Method  of  centering  for  vaultrl 
dome,  .... 

„  10.  Iron  and  masonry. — Vaulting  of 
large  sjjaces, 

„   17.  do.,  do., 

„   18.  do.,  do.. 


23 

25 
20 

27 
28 

37 


05 

57 
00 

63 

C4 

08 
09 

71 
76 


78 
78 


82 
84 

85 

89 
90 
92 


LECTURE  XIII. 

Fig.  1.  Details  of  the  great  loor,           .  122 
,,     2.  Details  of  the  glazed  awning,    .  125 
,,     3.  Iron  vaxilting  ribs,    .         .         .130 
,,     4.  Details  of  iron  network  vault- 
ing,        133 

„     5.  lioof  over  iron  uetw'ork  valting,  135 

,,     6.  Iron  network  vaulting,      .          .  137 

LECTURE  X  V. 

Fig.  1.   Origin  of  the  form  of  the  Egypt- 

tian  column,  .  .175 

„     2.   Idea  of  the  Greek  temj.le,  .    193 


Fig.  3.  Mosque  of  Mesdjid-i-Shah,      P.  195 
„     4.  do.,  do.,      .         .197 

,,     5.  Idea  of  the  Venetian  Palace,     .   199 

LECTURE  X  VI. 

Fig.  1.  J-^culpture  ornamentation  in  the 

middle  ages,  .         .   234 

,,      2.   Gateway  of  the  Chateau  de  la 

Fert(5-iMaon,        .         •         .230 

LECTURE  XVII. 

Fig.  1.  Ground  and  first-floor  plans  of 

a  Venetian  jialace,        .  .  250 

„  2.  Ground-plan  of  French  town 
mansion  of  the  sixteenth  and 
seventeenth  centuries,  .  202 

„     3.  do.,  do.,      .  .   264 

,,     4.   Design    for   a    modern    French 

town  mansion. — Ground  plan,  278 

„  5.  Design  for  a  modern  French 
tow'u  mansion. —  First-floor 
plan, 280 

,,     0.   Design    for   a   modern    French 

town  man.sion. — E oof  plan,     281 

,,  7.  Design  for  a  modern  French 
town  mansion.  —  Section 
through  the  dining-room,     .  283 

,,     8.   Arrangement  of  angle  rooms     .   286 

,,     9.   Plan  for  a   small  French  town 

mansion,      ....  287 

LECTURE  X  VIII. 

Fig.  1.  Design    for    a    French    private 

street  house. — Ground  plan,  301 
,,     2.  Design   for   a  French    private 
street     house.  —  First-floor 

plan, 303 

„     3.  Design  for  a  French  street  villa. 

Garden  elevation,         .         .   307 
,,     4.  Design  for  a  French  street  villa. 

Details  of  the  windows,        .   309 
,,     5.   Plan  illustrating  iron  windows,   310 
,,     0.  Details  of  iron  windows,  .          .  311 
,,     7.   Example  of  ii'ou-framed  street 
house. — Details  of  construc- 
tion,     321 

,,     8.  do.,  do.,      .  .  323 

.,     9.    Fireplaces  and  lines,  .  .   324 

,,   10.  Mode    of    supporting   the    fire- 
places, ....   325 
,,   11.   Outer     walls     of     iron-framed 

house,  ....  325 

,,   12.   Details  of  the  windows,    .  .  326 

,,    13.  Construction  of  irim  roofing,     .   336 
,,   14.   Details  of  iron  rooting,      .  .   338 

,,    15.  Iron  roofing,     ....   340 
,,   16.  Sheltered   fronts  of  old  houses 

in  tieneva,  .         .         .  342 

LECTURE  XIX. 

Fig.  1.  Overhanging  roof,     .  .  .  345 

,,      2.   Ketreating  roof,        .  .  .   345 


468 


LIST  i>F   \V(t(>l>i'[jy'S. 


Fig.  3. 


I> 

»l 

G 

,, 

7 

M 

8 

H 

9 

t* 

10 

>» 

11 

l» 

12 

fl 

13 

„ 

14 

'\'\h:     ilwclling.  —  Elementary 
principles,  .1'.  34G 

(lo„  do.,      .         .  340 

Floorings  of  thin  deal  joists,  .  353 
HystoiM  of  triiiiniinL;  jolHts,  .  3r>5 
Country  villii.  -15iinoniunt  story,  350 
Country  villa. —Kirst  story,  .  358 
Country   villa. — Elevation    anil 

seetion,  ....  359 
Country  villa. — Side  elevation,  300 
Soutliern  l''rcncli  riir.il  dwelling. 

CI  round  and  lirst-lloor  jilans,  302 
Soutliern  l'"reneh  rural  dwelling. 

I'Vont  elevation,  .  .  .   304 

Southern  French  rural  dwelling. 

Side  elevation,     .  .  .   364 

Chflteau  de  l''errals,  .   305 


Fig.  15.     Warkworth     ('aatle. — Ground 

pla P.  370 

„   1(>.   Warkworth  Castle. — First-floor 

plan .371 

„   17.   Warkworth  Castle. — Elevation 

and  seetion,  .  .  37'- 

,,    18.     Warkworth     (J.astle.— Canted 

angles  of  the  h.ays,  .  375 

,,   19.    Warkworth     Castle,      liantern 

coiling,         ....  377 


LECTUItE  XX. 

Pig.  1.   Form  of  building-account  book,  418 
„     2.   Masonry  details,  .         .  422 

„     3.        do.,         do.,  .424 


(fbinbnrgh  iilnilicvoiln  jprtsi-j  : 

TiroM.VS  AND  .MKMllllAI.I)   lONsTAIll.K.     rlll.\Tl;lls  To   HHll  MA.IHRTY. 


/ 


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